LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

— ' LB 105 \ — 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




MENTAL SCIENCE 



METHODS OF MENTAL CULTURE, 



DESIGNED FOR 



THE USE OF NORMAL SCHOOLS, ACADEMIES, AND PRIVATE 
STUDENTS PREPARING TO BE TEACHERS. 



EDWARD BROOKS, A. M.,Ph. D., 

PRINCIPAL OF STATE NORMAL SCHOOL, MILLERSVILLE PENNSYLVANIA, AND AUTHOR 
OF NORMAL METHODS OF TEACHING. A NORMAL SERIES OF MATHEMATICS, ETC. 



r°. 



" Whatever thai is which thinks, ivhich understands, which ivills, which acts, 
it is something celestial and divine; and, upon that account, must necessarily 
be eternal.' 1 '' — Cicero. 



MAR 23 1883 " 

>,_ no.;' 

° F WASHIN&"* 



LANCASTER, PA. : 

NORMAL PUBLISHING COMPANY. 

1883. 






LI) 



vo 






BY THE AUTHOR OF THIS WORK. 

I. Normal Methods of Teaching, - 
II. Mental Science and Culture, - 
III. The Philosophy of Arithmetic, - 

NORMAL PUBLISHING CO., 

LANCASTER, PA. 



$1.75 
1.75 
2.25 



I. The Normal Series of Arithmetics. 

1. The Standard Series : A full course. 

Four books: New Primary, 22; Elementary, 45 ; New 
Mental, 35 ; New Written, 80. 

2. The Union Series: a shorter course. 

Two books; Union Part I., 25; The Normal Union, 90. 

II. Normal Elementary Algebra, - - - - $1.10 

III. Normal Geometry and Trigonometry, - - 1.10 

IV. Normal Higher Arithmetic, - - - - 1,25 
V. Keys containing Methods and Models. 

SOWER, POTTS & CO., Publishers, 

530 MARKET STREET, PHILADELPHIA. 

Copies mailed on receipt of prices annexed, and introduced into 
schools for one-third less. 



Copyright, 1882, By EDWARD BROOKS. 



INQUIRER P. & P. CO., 

STEREOTYPERS AND PRINTERS, 

LANCASTER, PA. 



PREFACE. 



TpDUGATION embraces the culture and instruction of the mind. This 
""^ culture and instruction must be based on a knowledge of the nature 
of the mind and its activities. Such a knowledge is not only a necessity, 
but this necessity is now generally realized by educators and intelligent 
teachers. Never before in the history of education has there been so strong 
and wide a demand for works treating of the nature of the mind and its 
culture, as at the present time. With the view of meeting this demand, 
the present treatise is published. 

Origin. — This treatise originated and grew up in the class-room. It is 
the result of many years' experience in the instruction of student-teachers 
in mental philosophy. Much of it was prepared and given to classes in 
written or printed notes for them to study and recite. These notes acquired 
a popularity outside of the school, and, by permission, were used in several 
other institutions. A demand was thus created for a text-book on the sub- 
ject, and to meet the demand these notes have been rewritten and expanded 
into a complete treatise. 

Extent. — The work presents a complete outline of the subject of Mental 
Philosophy, embracing the Intellect, the Sensibilities, and the Will. The 
treatment of the Intellect is especially full and detailed, as the teacher's 
work has mainly to do with the culture and training of this faculty. The 
Sensibilities and Will are discussed more briefly, but their treatment is 
comprehensive .and complete. While aiming at conciseness and simplicity 
in the explanation of each topic, the object of the author has been to dis- 
cuss all the leading principles of the science, and thus present a complete 
treatment of the nature of the mind and the methods of cultivating it. 
The topics are so arranged that students who wish a shorter course can 
omit some of the less important points in the discussion ; and an outline is 

(3) 



4 PREFACE. 

presented, indicating a twelve or fourteen weeks' course, which gives a con- 
nected view of the whole subject. (See page 12.) 

The Material. — The subject of mental philosophy has been so thoroughly 
investigated that an author can hope to present but little that is new or 
original. The first object of a writer should be to state clearly the generally 
recognized views of the science, and this has been the primary aim in the 
present work ; it will thus be found to agree in the main with the best 
thinkers of modern times. The principal object has not been to be original 
in thought or expression, but to be clear, accurate, and concise. Nothing 
was put in because it was new, and nothing left out because it was old. I 
have aimed to produce a text-book which should contain, in a clear and 
practical form, the essential elements of mental science. I have not hesi- 
tated, however, to present such new views of the subject as my own think- 
ing has suggested. There will thus be found, in the treatment of nearly 
every topic, some new idea, or some new phase or clearer statement of an 
old one. Some of the points peculiar to this work are the regarding of the 
cognition of the sensation as an act of perception, the giving of four distinct 
elements to the memory, the spontaneity of recollection, the reduction of all 
the laws of memory to the one law of the relation of ideas, the distinct as- 
sumption and proof of two elements of the imagination, making it a com- 
bining and a creating power, the formal including of the several ideas of 
Space, Time, etc., under the Intuitions of the True, the treatment of the Lu- 
dicrous as a rational idea, etc. Special attention is also called to the brief 
but comprehensive treatment of the Will, and especially of the doctrine of 
the Freedom of the Will. 

Mental Culture. — The most striking feature of the work is the formal 
presentation of Methods of Cultivating the Different Faculties. This feature 
especially distinguishes the work from every previous treatise that has fallen 
under the author's notice ; and, it is thought, will render it especi. Ily valu- 
able to the teacher and educator. To this part of the subject the author 
has devoted special labor, and having no previous treatment to guide him, 
his task was a difficult and embarrassing one. Much of what is given has 
been used in oral discussions in his teaching classes for many years, and in 
his lectures at teachers' institutes in different parts of the State. As he -was 



PREFACE. 5 

compelled by the limits of the volume to be brief, the discussions presented 
are mere outlines of what could be written on the subject. "It is proper to 
remark, also, that they do not come up to the author's ideal of what could 
be presented ; but they may serve to awaken an interest in the subject, and 
incite others to a fuller and more suggestive treatment of the culture of the 
mind. 

Nature of the System. — The system of philosophy here presented is similar 
to that of the best English and American thinkers. In its general spirit it 
coincides with that of Sir William Hamilton, though it differs in many 
details from that illustrious author. It also agrees in spirit with much of 
the best German thinking on the subject of metaphysics. In its system of 
thought it is neither materialistic nor absolutely rationalistic, but aims to 
unite what is true in both of these schemes of philosophy. It holds that 
the mind is an entity distinct from matter and the author of thought, rather 
than that thought is a function of matter, as taught by the modern materi- 
alistic school of thinkers. It does not ignore, however, the physical basis 
of perception, and it therefore accepts one of the established facts of the 
materialistic school. But it rises above this school by assuming that the 
mind is an original source of truth, and that it can originate and compre- 
hend necessary and universal principles. It thus rises from the lowest 
facts of materialism to the highest facts of rationalistic philosophy. 

Relation to Religion. — The relation of its teachings to religion is one of 
the striking features of the work. Beginning with the sensations in the 
nervous tissue, it traces ideas up through the senses into the realm of ab- 
stract and general truth, and finally up into the domain of supersensual 
ideas and truths, and here finds the True, the Beautiful, and the Good. 
Here it reaches the conception of the Absolute and Infinite, and uniting 
these with the Good, it attains to the highest conception of the mind, that 
of God. Recognizing this idea in the soul as an immutable verity, and 
the elements of Faith, Love, and Obedience as associated with it, the work 
lays a philosophical foundation for the building up of that grand temple 
of belief found in the human soul, called Religion. This system of philos- 
ophy is therefore not only rational, but it is also religious. 

A Text-Book. — The special merit of the work is that it is suitable for a 



6 PREFACE. 

text-book upon the science. The aim has been to present the subject with 
simplicity and clearness, and so that it can be readily understood and recited 
by the student. The student of a science needs a book in which he can 
prepare a lesson for the recitation of the class-room, and most books on 
mental science are deficient in this respect. In studying a new science, 
many subjects must be committed, and a text-book should present the mat- 
ter in a form suitable for recitation. Every paragraph of this work has 
been written in view of the thought, How will this meet the demands of 
the recitation-room ? Thus prepared, it is hoped that one of its strongest 
claims on teachers and students will be its merit as a text-book. The value 
of the work in this respect has also been enhanced by the scholarly sugges- 
tions of Prof. E. Oram Lyte, who has kindly and with critical care read 
nearly all the manuscript. 

In closing this preface, I desire to express the hope that the work may 
prove valuable to the young men and women of the country, in giving them 
clearer views of the dignity and power of the human mind and the necessity 
and nature of its culture. In my own classes the study of mental science 
has been the source of high inspiration in thought and culture, and has 
contributed largely to the great success of my pupils as teachers and mem- 
bers of the other professions. Recalling the many happy hours spent in 
the class-room discussing the themes here treated, I take pleasure in dedi- 
cating this, my latest, and probably my last work, 

TO MY PUPILS IN MENTAL SCIENCE, 

with the sentiment they have often heard me express that 1 would rather 
live in the hearts of my pupils than be honored in song or story. 

EDWARD BROOKS. 
State Normal School, 

Millersville, Pa., Jan. 16, 1883. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

Preface iii 

INTRODUCTION. 

CHAPTER I. 
The Nature of Mental Science . 13 

CHAPTER II 
The Nature of the Mind .... 23 

CHAPTER III. 
The Faculties of the Mind . . 30 

CHAPTER IV. 
The Culture of the Mind ... 36 

MENTAL ATTRIBUTES. 

CHAPTER I. 

The Nature of Consciousness. 
Definition and Nature .... 43 
Objects of Consciousness ... 46 
Products of Consciousness . . 48 
Unconscious Mental Modifica- 
tions 50 

Development of Conscious 
Knowledge 52 

CHAPTER II. 

The Culture of Consciousness. 

Culture through Conscious 
Knowledge 55 

Culture through Unconscious 
Knowledge 58 

Culture of Philosophical Con- 
sciousness 61 

Abnormal Consciousness ... 64 

CHAPTER III. 
The Nature of Attention. 

Definition and Nature .... 66 
Can we Do Anything without 

Attention? . . . .' . . . . 69 
Number of Objects of Attention. 71 

( 



CHAPTER n. 
The Culture of Attention. 
Importance of Habits of At- 
tention 75 

Methods of Cultivating Atten- 
tion 78 

Securing Attention of Pupils . 79 

THE INTELLECT. 

PERCEPTION. 

CHAPTER I. 

The Nature of Perception. 

Definition and Nature .... 85 
The Nervous Organism . . . . 87 
The Perceptive Process .... 90 
Remarks on the Process ... 94 
Perception by the Different 

Senses .99 

The Qualities of Bodies . . .110 

CHAPTER II. 

The Culture of Perception. 

Neglect of Culture 115 

Importance of Culture .... 117 
Differences of Perceptive 

Power 119 

Time for Culture 120 

Methods of Culture 121 

Special Lessons 125 

THE MEMORY. 

CHAPTER I. 

The Nature of the Memory. 

Definition and Nature .... 127 

Elements of Memory 128 

Retention 129 

Recollection 131 

Representation 133 

Recognition 13G 

7) 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Laws ot Memory 140 



Nature of the Laws 
Primary Laws of Memory . 
Secondary Laws of Memory 
The One Primary Law . . 
Remarks on the Memory . . 



140 
142 
145 
148 
151 



CHAPTER II. 
The Culture of the Memory. 

Nature and Importance . . .155 

Methods of Culture 158 

Application in Teaching . . . 166 

THE IMAGINATION. 
CHAPTER I. 
The Nature of the Imagination. 
Definition and Nature .... 169 
Products of the Imagination .171 
Forms of the Imagination . .173 
Laws of the Imagination . . .174 
Limits and Sphere 178 

CHAPTER II. 
The Culture of the Imagination. 
Value of the Imagination.. . . 188 
Culture of the Imagination . . 192 

THE UNDERSTANDING. 
CHAPTER I. 
The Nature of the Under- 
standing 201 

CHAPTER II. 
The Nature of Abstraction. 

Eefinition and Nature .... 204 
Products of Abstraction . . . 205 
Other Views of Abstraction. . 207 

CHAPTER III. 
The Nature of Generalization, 
or Conception. 
Definition and Nature . . . .210 
Process of Conception .... 210 
Remarks on the Process . . 212 
Nature of the Concept .... 214 
Qualities of Concepts .... 218 
Unfolding Conceptions . . . 221 
The Value of General Ideas. . 223 
Existence of General Ideas . . 223 
Classification 225 



PAGE. 

CHAPTER IV. 
The Nature of the Judgment. 
Definition and Nature .... 228 

Nature of Judgments 231 

Derived Judgments 234 

Conversion of Judgments . . . 235 

CHAPTER V. 
The Nature of Reasoning. 

Definition and Kinds 237 

The Syllogism 241 

Deductive Reasoning 249 

Another Form of Deduction . 251 
Mathematical Reasoning . . 252 

Inductive Reasoning 255 

Criteria of Induction. . . . 258 

Tests of Causal Agency . . 260 

Hypothesis and Theory . . . .261 

Analogy 266 

Testimony 270 

CHAPTER VI. 
Culture of the Understanding. 
Importance of Culture .... 274 

Neglect of Culture 276 

Time for Culture 276 

Culture of Abstraction . . . .277 

CHAPTER VII. 
Culture of Generalization . . 278 
By Logical Analysis . . . . .279 

By Logical Division 281 

By Logical Definition ..... 284 

The Culture of Classification . 286 

Importance of Classification. 287 

Methods of Culture .... 288 

CHAPTER VIII. 
The Culture of the Judgment. 
Importance of the Judgment . 291 
CuLure of the Judgment . .293 

CHAPTER IX. 
The Culture of Reasoning. 

The Culture of Deduction . .297 
Study of Mathematics . . .297 
. Study of Language .... 301 
Study of Metaphysics . . . 303 

Avoid Fallacies 306 

The Culture of Induction . . . 309 
Inductive Teaching . . . .310 
Study of Natural Science . . 312 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

Inductive Thinking . . . .314 
Avoid Fallacies 316 

INTUITION. 
CHAPTER I. 
The Nature op Intuition. 

Definition and Nature .... 319 
Existence of this Faculty . . . 320 
Relation to Other Faculties . . 322 
Products of Intuition .... 325 

Primary Truths 325 

Nature of Primary Truths . 325 
Existence of Primary Truths. 325 
Tests of Primary Truths . .327 
Remarks on Primary Truths. 328 
Primary Ideas 330 

CHAPTER II. 
The Intuitions of the True. 

Space 

Time 

Identity 

Cause 



331 
333 
335 

340 



CHAPTER III. 

The Intuitions of the Beautiful. 

Definition of the Beautiful . . 345 
Subjective Theories . . . 346 
Objective Theories 347 

The Sublime 353 

The Ludicrous 358 

Nature of the Ludicrous . . 360 
Forms of the Ludicrous . . 363 

The Power of Taste 367 

CHAPTER IV. 
The Intuitions of the Good. 

Nature of the Idea 371 

Nature of the Right ... . .373 

Origin of the Idea 378 

Nature of Conscience .... 383 
CHAPTER V. 
The Culture of the Intuitions 

of the True 390 

CHAPTER VI. 
The Culture of the Intuitions 
of Beauty. 

Value of Beauty 396 

Culture of the Beautiful ... 399 



PAGE. 

CHAPTER VII. 
The Culture of the Intuitions 
of the Right. 
Nature of Ethical Culture . . 405 
Importance of Ethical Culture. 409 
Principles of Ethical Culture . 412 
Culture of the Different Duties. 417 

Personal Duties 417 

Duties to Others 421 

Duties to God 424 

THE SENSIBILITIES. 

CHAPTER I. 
The Nature of the Sensibilities. 

Definition and Nature .... 433 

The Simple Emotions .... 436 
The Instinctive Emotions . . 436 
The Rational Emotions . . . 438 
The Egoistic Emotions . . . 439 
The ^Esthetic Emotions . . 440 
The Ethical Emotions . . .442 

The Affections 444 

The Benevolent Affections . 444 
The Malevolent Affections . 447 

The Desires 449 

The Animal Desires .... 450 
The Rational Desires .... 451 

CHAPTER II. 
The Culture of the Sensibil 
ities. 
Importance of the Sensibilities. 455 
Culture of the Emotions . . . 460 
Culture of the Affections . . . 464 
Culture of the Desires .... 468 



THE WILL. 

CHAPTER I. 
The Nature of the Will. 
Definition and Nature . 
Freedom of the Will . . 



CHAPTER II. 
The Culture of the Will. 

Importance of the Will. . 

Culture of the Will . . . 
Higher Spiritual Culture 



475 
484 



493 
497 
502 



A FOURTEEN WEEKS' COURSE. 



This work presents the author's ideal of a complete professional course 
in Mental Science and Mental Culture. The following outline indicates a 
logical^ connected Shorter Course for students and teachers not having 
time to complete the entire work. The careful study of the parts indicated, 
in connection with the attentive reading of the chapters on the culture of 
different faculties, can be accomplished in about twelve or fourteen weeks. 



PAGE 

13-22 
30-35 



Nature of Mental Science 

Faculties of the Mind . . 

Consciousness. 

Definition and Nature . . 43-46 
Objects of Consciousness . 46-48 
Products of Consciousness. 48-50 

Attention. 

Definition and Nature . . 66-69 
Can we Do Anything with- 
out Attention? .... 69-71 
Number of Objects of At- 
tention 71-74 

Perception. 
Definition and Nature . . 85-87 
The Nervous Organism . . 87-90 
The Perceptive Process . . 90-94 

Memory. 

Definition and Nature . . 127-128 
Elements of Memory . . . 128-140 
Laws of Memory 140-148 

Imagination. 

. Definition and Nature . . 169-171 
Products of the Imagina- 
tion 171-173 

Forms of the Imagination . 173-174 
Laws of the Imagination . 174-178 
Limits and Sphere of the 

Imagination 178-183 

The Understanding .... 201-203 

Abstraction. 

Definition and Nature . . 204-205 
Products of Abstraction . 205-207 
Other Views of Abstraction 207-209 

Generalization. 

Definition and Nature . . 210 



PAGE 

Process of Conception . . 210-214 
Nature of the Concept . . 214-218 

Judgment. 

Definition and Nature . . 228-231 
Nature of Judgments . . . 231-234 
Derived Judgments . . . 234-235 
Conversion of Judgments . 235-236 

Reasoning. 

Definition and Kinds . . . 237-241 

The Syllogism 241-244 

Deductive Reasoning . . . 249-252 
Inductive Reasoning . . . 255-258 
Hypothesis and Theory . . 261-265 
Analogy 266-270 

Intuition. 

Definition and Nature . . 319-320 
Existence of this Faculty. 320-322 
Relation to Other Facul- 
ties 322-325 

Products of Intuition . . 325-330 

The Beautiful 345-353 

The Good, or Right. 

Nature of the Idea .... 371-373 
Nature of the Right . . . 373-378 
Origin of the Idea .... 378-383 

The Sensibilities. 

Definition and Nature . . 433-436 
The Simple Emotions . . 436-444 

The Affections 444-449 

The Desires 449-454 

The Will. 

Definition and Nature . . 475-477 

The Motive 477-179 

The Choice 479-481 

The Executive Volition . . 481-482 



'00 



ESTTKODUCTICOT. 



I. Nature of Mental, Science. 
II. Nature of the Mind. 

III. Faculties of the Mind. 

IV. Culture of the Mind. 



MENTAL SCIENCE. 

AND 

METHODS OF MENTAL CULTURE. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE NATURE OF MENTAL SCIENCE. 

MENTAL Science is the science of the human mind. It 
treats of the nature of the mind and the manner in which 
it operates. Its object is to ascertain the facts of mind and the 
laws which regulate its operations. The object of a text-book on 
Mental Science is to state these facts and laws in a clear, precise, 
and systematic manner. 

Mental Philosophy. — The science of the mind is often pre- 
sented under the name of Mental Philosophy. The term philoso- 
phy, however, is a little broader in its signification than science. 
Strictly speaking, Philosophy is the science of the true; in its 
more general sense, however, it means the investigation and ex- 
planation of the laws and principles of a subject. The word is 
derived from p/wfos, a lover, and sophia, wisdom, a philosopher 
being, literally, a lover of wisdom. The origin of the term is 
usually ascribed to Pythagoras, though Hamilton thinks it more 
natural to refer it to Socrates. 

Psychology. — The technical name of the science of the mind 
is Psychology. Psychology may thus be defined as the science 
of the human mind. It has been divided into Empirical Psy- 
chology and Rational Psychology, according to the methods of 
attaining to the facts and principles of the science. The term is 

(13) 



14 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

derived from psyche, the soul, and logos, a discourse, and thus 
means a discourse about the soul. It is interesting to notice that 
the relation of the term psyche in the Greek to a butterfly, car- 
ries with it the intimation of an early belief in the immortality 
of the human soul. 

Anthropology. — The science of Psychology stands intermedi- 
ate between two other sciences, — Physiology and Anthropology. 
All of these sciences treat of man, but in different ways. Physi- 
ology treats of the human body ; Psychology treats of the human 
mind ; while Anthropology treats of the entire man as body and 
soul. Anthropology investigates man as a complex whole, shows 
the influence of climate, soil, and physical surroundings on the 
soul and body, the influence of the soul and body on each other, 
and endeavors to ascertain all those circumstances and principles 
which determine the condition and character of the individual 
and the race. 

Metaphysics. — The term Metaphysics has been sometimes ap- 
plied to the science of the mind. This term, according to its ety- 
mological meaning, stands in contrast with the term Physics, or 
the science of matter. It has been used in a popular sense to 
include whatever is not embraced under Physics. In its narrower 
sense it maybe defined as the science of abstract truth. The 
term is said to have originated with the disciples of Aristotle. 
Several of his works relating to the material world, were collected 
and published under the title of ra Qvcnica; subsequently other 
works treating of philosophical subjects were arranged under the 
title of ra fxerarpvaiKa, indicating that they were to be read 
after the perusal of the other works. From this the term came 
to be used in the sense of embracing everything not included 
under Physics. 

Other Branches. — The term Metaphysics, however, neither in 
its wider nor in its stricter sense, is properly used as the name of 
the science of the mind. There are many other branches besides 
mental science that may be included under the head of meta- 
physics. Thus, we have Logic, or the science of thought ; Ethics, 



THE NATURE OP MENTAL SCIENCE. 15 

or the science of the Right ; ^Esthetics, or the science of the 
Beautiful ; Politics, or the science of government ; •. Ontology, or 
the science of pure being, etc. These branches are very nearly 
coordinate with Psychology, the science of the mind, and may all 
be properly distinguished as metaphysical sciences. 

The Nature op Science. — In order to have a somewhat clear 
notion of the nature of mental science, it will be well to obtain a 
general idea of the nature of Science and the elements of which 
it is composed. Science may be defined as organized knowledge. 
It embraces the facts and truths- of a subject systematically ar- 
ranged and bound together into an organic unity by laws and 
principles. This statement gives a general idea of the nature of 
science, but the subject will be more clearly understood by notic- 
ing the character of the two general classes into which science 
is divided. 

Two Kinds of Science. — There are two general classes of 
science, which may be distinguished as the Deductive and the In- 
ductive sciences. A Deductive science consists of three things: 
first, ideas, which lead to definitions ; second, self-evident truths 
called axioms; third, derived truths or theorems. Arithmetic, 
geometry, etc., are examples of a deductive science. An Induct- 
ive science embraces several distinct elements : first, facts and 
'phenomena ; second, the causes of these facts and phenomena ; 
third, the laws which govern these facts and phenomena. Natural 
Philosophy is a good example of an inductive science. A few of 
these sciences, as botany, consist principally of facts and scientific 
classifications. Some sciences partake of the nature of both of 
these two general classes. 

These two classes of sciences are also distinguished as Rational 
and Empirical sciences. These terms indicate the origin of the 
elements of which they are composed. The Empirical sciences 
are those whose elements are derived from experience ; the Ra- 
tional sciences are those whose elements are derived from the rea- 
son. The terms Inductive and Deductive, as applied to these 
sciences, indicate the methods of their development, the former 



16 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

being developed by inductive reasoning, and the latter by de- 
ductive reasoning. 

Nature of Elements. — The elements of these sciences consist 
of ideas, thoughts, truths, facts, phenomena, causes, laius, etc. An 
Idea is a mental product which, when expressed in words, does not 
give a proposition; as, man, animal, triangle, polygon, etc. A 
Thought is a mental product which, when expressed in words, 
gives a proposition; as, a man is an animal, or a triangle is a 
polygon. A Truth is a true thought : a man is a quadruped is a 
thought, but not a truth. A Fact is a truth in the domain of 
experience; as, the -sun shines, or the mind remembers. The term 
Truth is often limited to self-evident and derived truths. A 
Phenomenon is an appearance; as, the twinkling of the stars: the 
statement of a phenomenon gives a fact ; as, the stars twinkle. 
A Cause is that which produces an event. A Law is the regular 
mode or order according to which something acts or takes place. 

Origin of Elements — In the deductive sciences the ideas are 
usually given by intuition — as, the ideas of geometry, i. e., angle, 
triangle, circle, etc. The truths of the deductive sciences are of 
two kinds, axioms and theorems. The axioms are self-evident 
truths given also by the intuitive power, as, " all right angles are 
equal to one . another." The theorems are derived by deductive 
reasoning, as, " the sum of the angles of a plane triangle equals 
two right angles." In the inductive sciences the facts and phe- 
nomena are given by experience. The causes and laws are de- 
rived by inductive reasoning. The scientific classifications are 
given by generalization. In both classes of sciences the material 
is carefully classified and systematized. 

Nature of Mental Science. — Having noticed the general 
nature of science, we are. prepared to see more clearly the nature 
of mental science. Such a general view will be of great value in 
the study and comprehension of the science. In order to pursue 
the study intelligently, we need to know the character of the 
knowledge we are acquiring, and the method of its development. 
We shall, therefore, present a brief statement, showing of what 



THE NATURE OF MENTAL SCIENCE. 17 

knowledge the science is composed, and how this knowledge is 
obtained. 

Elements Embraced. — The science of the mind embraces 
several distinct elements. First, Ave have the facts pertaining to 
the mind, including the various faculties and their operations. 
Second, we have the laws which govern these activities. Third, 
we have a statement of the causes of certain facts and phenomena 
of the mind. Fourth, Ave have hypotheses and theories to account 
for certain facts and phenomena of the mind not readily under- 
stood. Fifth, these activities are attended Avith certain products, 
the nature and origin of which are also to be explained. All 
these are to be systematically arranged and presented. 

Facts how Obtained.— -The facts of the mind, including its 
operations and products, are obtained by observation and experi- 
ence. The operations of the mind are revealed to us by con- 
sciousness. In order to study mental science, then, Ave must first 
notice carefully the operations of our own minds. We can also, 
to a certain extent, observe the workings of the minds of others, 
and thereby gain some facts relating to the science of the mind. 
The nature of the mind is also revealed by the expression of its 
products in language. We can therefore study mental philoso- 
phy by studying the products of mind embodied in the language 
and literature of- a jDeople. Language has been expressively de- 
fined as " concrete metaphysics.'' 

Laws how Obtained. — The laAVS of the activity of the facul- 
ties are gained partly by experience and partly by an induction 
from the facts of experience. Some of the principles which 
govern the operations of the mind are revealed in consciousness 
or are given by intuition. Many of them are reached by a care- 
ful comparison of the facts and an induction of a general law 
from the particulars. The hypotheses and theories put forth to 
explain the facts are verified by reflection and reasoning. Some 
of the facts and laAVS, it is claimed, can be deduced from general 
a priori principles of the reason, but this is not so readily seen. 

Similar to Natural Science. — In its development Mental 



18 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Science is similar to a natural science. In a natural science, as 
Natural Philosophy, we begin by the observation of facts ; we 
then seek for the causes of these facts and the laws which govern 
them. Thus, we observe the fact that certain bodies fall toward 
the earth; we then inquire after the cause, and find it to be the 
attraction of gravitation; we then ascertain the laws of falling 
bodies, and find that the distances are proportional to the squares of 
the times. So in mental philosophy we obtain facts by experience, 
and then search for the causes which produce and the laws which 
govern them. 

Relation to Natural Science. — The nature of mental 
science may be better understood if we notice a little more closely 
its relation to the natural sciences, with which the student is sup- 
posed to be somewhat familiar when he enters upon the study of 
mental philosophy. There are several particulars in which these 
two sciences agree, and also several points of difference. 

Knowledge of Each. — First, we know only the phenomena 
of each. We know matter by its properties, and mind by its 
activities. Of the essence or essential nature of matter, we know 
nothing ; and the same is true of our knowledge of mind. We 
know its operations and states, we are conscious that it perceives, 
remembers, imagines, reasons, that it loves, hates, desires, deter- 
mines; etc. ; but what it is in its essential nature, in its essence — of 
this we are ignorant. 

Development the Same. — The two sciences agree' also in the 
manner in which they are developed. They both consist of facts, 
the causes of the facts, and the laws which govern them. These 
facts, in both cases, are the result of experience. From the facts 
and phenomena we pass to their causes and laws. These are ob- 
tained by a careful induction from particulars, aided frequently 
by hypothesis and theory. All these elements are reduced to a 
system by the process of classification. 

Hoiv They Differ. — While there is this general agreement 
in the manner of the development of the two sciences, there are 
also several differences. First, the facts in mental science are 



THE NATUEE OF MENTAL SCIENCE. 19 

given, not by an observation of things without, but by a con- 
sciousness of what takes place within the mind. The experience 
is one of reflection rather than of observation. Again, the in- 
quiry after causes is not so prominent in the science of mind as 
in that of matter. The reason for this seems to be that the fact 
is more nearly related to its cause, or rather they are revealed in a 
closer connection with each other. The law is less a matter of 
induction and more a matter of intuition or philosophical insight 
in mental science than in natural science. 

Not a Natural Science. — The relation of the two classes of 
sciences is so close that some thinkers regard mental science as a 
natural science. For this they adduce two reasons : first, their 
methods of. development are the same; and second, the mind 
belongs to the domain of nature. This view is not regarded as 
correct. The latter reason would make arithmetic and geometry 
natural sciences, since number and form belong to the natural 
world. Even though the methods of development are similar, the 
subject matter is so different that we are justified in regarding 
them as two different kinds of sciences. 

Value of Mental Science. — In entering upon a new study 
it is natural for the student to inquire in respect to its value and 
use. This is especially the case in so abstract a science as mental 
philosophy, a science also of which the general scholar has so little 
knowledge. We shall, therefore, devote a few paragraphs to 
showing the value of a knowledge of mental science. We preface 
these remarks by speaking of the neglect of the study, and the 
reasons for this neglect. 

The Study Neglected. — The study of mental science has been 
widely neglected. This neglect is due to several causes. One of 
these causes lies in the nature of the science itself: it is abstract 
and difficult for the ordinary mind to understand. Second, the 
mind turns more naturally to the concrete and objective, to that 
which lies without and has form and color, than to the formless 
and intangible operations and products of the human spirit. 
Third, the study of the material world seems to promise more 



20 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

practical results, as it deals with forces which serve man's conven- 
ience, and contribute to his comfort and material welfare. To 
build a railroad or invent a telegraph seems to be worth more to 
the world than to understand the laws of thought, or be able to 
discuss the freedom of the will. This is an age of action rather 
than of reflection ; and we must wait until " that period comes of 
golden affluence, and leisure, and elegant culture, that can at once 
appreciate and reward the higher efforts of philosophic investiga- 
tion." 

Valuable as a Discipline. — The study of mental science is 
especially valuable for the discipline it affords to the mind. It 
trains the mind to habits of reflective thought, and cultivates that 
fine sense of discrimination so necessary to science. It does more 
to give breadth of mental grasp and philosophic poise of thought 
than any other branch of learning. As a disciplinary study it 
has no superior, even if it has an equal, among the sciences. The 
tbree great disciplinary studies of thought-power are, Mental 
Arithmetic, Geometry, and Mental Philosophy. Mental arith- 
metic trains the young mind to habits of rigid analysis ; geometry 
trains it to the logical forms of thought and exjDression ; mental 
science crowns the work, and cultivates the power to grasp 
abstract principles. The study, therefore, which we place highest 
on the list for the culture of thought-power, is mental science. 

Value to the Teacher. — A knowledge of mental science is in- 
valuable to the teacher. The teacher's work is to develop and 
train the minds of his pupils ; and to do this aright, he must 
understand the nature of the mind he is to cultivate. As well 
might the farmer undertake to cultivate the soil without knowing 
anything of its nature, or the physician attempt to cure disease 
without knowing anything of the human system, as for the 
teacher to attempt to train the mind without understanding any- 
thing of its nature and activity. 

To be more specific, the teacher should understand the mind in 
order to select and adapt knowledge suitable to its capacities in* 
different stages of its activity. That is, he should know the na- 



THE NATUEE OF MENTAL SCIENCE. 21 

ture of the mind in order to arrange a course of study suited to 
its development. Again, the teacher should understand the mind, 
since the principles of instruction have their basis in and are 
drawn from the nature of the mind. These principles are of 
three classes ; first, those pertaining to the culture of the mind ; 
second, those pertaining to the order in which knowledge shall be 
presented; and, third, those pertaining to the methods of com- 
municating knowledge. The first of these, it is evident, are 
drawn immediately from the nature of the mind. The principles 
pertaining to the order of presenting knowledge have their origin 
in the mind, since knowledge originates in the mind and thus de- 
rives its character from the mind. The principles relating to the 
methods of imparting knowledge can also be shown to have an 
intimate relation to the nature of the mind. 

A knowledge of mental science thus lies at the very foundation 
of the teacher's work. No person is fully qualified to teach until 
he understands the nature of the mind. Much of the blundering 
in the methods of teaching is due to the ignorance of teachers in 
this respect. The cramming of our schools, which has produced 
so many cases of mental dyspepsia, is the result of this wide-spread 
ignorance of mental science. All the reforms of modern meth- 
ods of teaching are based upon a clearer view of the nature and 
functions of the mind of the learner; and we may expect our 
methods to continue to improve in the direct ratio of an increase 
of a knowledge of mental philosophy among teachers and edu- 
cators. 

Of General Value. — A knowledge of the nature of the mind 
is of value in every vocation. It gives one a knowledge of human 
nature ; and such a knowledge is a key to success in every occii- 
pation depending upon the influencing of men. The physician 
who understands the mental peculiarities of his patients, and the 
relation of the mind to the bodily functions, can often do more 
for the cure of disease through mental influences than by the ad- 
ministering of medicines. The lawyer wins or loses his case, 
according as he knows how to influence the judgment and sensi- 



22 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

bilities of judge and jury. The minister moves the hearts anc" 
wills of his congregation better when he understands the hidden 
springs of thought and emotion. The orator leads the opinions 
and arouses the passions of the people when he is familiar with 
the secret working of the faculties of the human soul. And so 
in every vocation where mind comes in contact with mind, the 
man who understands the law of human influence is usually the 
man of influence and success. 



CHAPTEK II. 

THE NATURE OF THE MIND. 

npHE Mind is that part of our nature which is called the 
-L spirit, the soul, or the intelligence. It is that unseen power 
which constitutes us intelligent and rational beings, and thus dis- 
tinguishes us from the material world around us. Of its essen- 
tial nature nothing is known ; we study it only by its manifesta- 
tions, — its activities and products. 

Hoiv to Define Mind. — The mind can be denned only by its 
activities. In order to define the mind, .therefore, we must ob- 
serve and determine its various forms of activity. These activi- 
ties, classified under a few general heads and predicated of the 
unseen something which manifests them, will give us a definition 
of mind. A careful analysis enables us to classify all the mental 
activities under three general heads ; thinking, feeling, and will- 
ing : we may therefore define the mind as that which thinks, feels, 
and wills. 

Other Names. — The terms spirit and soul are generally re- 
garded as synonymous with mind. Some writers, however, dis- 
tinguish between the mind and the soul, regarding the mind 
merely as the power of thinking and knowing, or as a part of the 
soul, which is the entire spiritual nature. Some distinguish also 
between the soul and the spirit, regarding the soul as that which 
is or has been connected with a body, while the spirit is that which 
neither is now nor ever has been connected with a bodily form. 
In this treatise the term mind is used as embracing the whole 
spiritual being. 

Essence not JLnown. — In the study of mental science no at- 
tempt is made to ascertain the essence, or essential nature of the 

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24 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

mind. Indeed, of the essence or substance of which the mind is 
composed nothing can be known. Marivaux, says Dr. Brown, 
was once asked " What is the soul ? " " I know nothing of it," he 
replied, " except that it is spiritual and immortal." " Well," said 
his friend, " let us ask Fontenelle ; perhaps he can tell us what it 
is." " Ask any one but Fontenelle," replied Marivaux, " for he 
has too much good sense to know anything more about it than 
we do." But though we cannot know mind in its essential attri- 
butes, we can know that it exists, and can understand its activi- 
ties and the forms and laws of its operations. 

Existence of Mind. — The existence of mind is revealed by 
its activities. I know, therefore I am, is a fundamental principle 
of mental science. Descartes, a philosopher of the seventeenth 
century, based his philosophy upon the principle eoglto, ergo sum, 
— I think, therefore I am, — and this has been accepted as a correct 
basis of belief by nearly all subsequent writers. The existence 
of mind is not however an inference from thinking, but is a fact 
involved in the very act of thought. , The evidence of each per- 
son's own existence is self-consciousness : I know that I am is a 
final and ultimate judgment that authenticates my personal exis- 
tence. The mind knows its own existence ; and. this knowledge is 
ultimate and final. 

Not a Result of Matter. — This something which we call the 
mind is not a phenomenon of matter, like electricity or galvan- 
ism. It cannot be admitted that consciousness results from the 
combination or action of any number of chemical elements. It 
is a law of nature that a mechanical cause passes completely into 
a mechanical effect. It is, therefore, impossible to conceive of the 
conversion of material particles into so dissimilar a thing as 
human intelligence ; or of a blind force like gravity or electricity 
becoming conscious and intelligent. Even Huxley says, " Hew it 
is possible that anything so remarkable as a state of consciousness 
comes about as the result of irritating nervous tissue, is just as 
unaccountable as any other ultimate fact of nature." 

The 3Iind Spiritual. — The mind is said to be spiritual rather 



THE NATURE OF THE MIND. 25 

than material. It differs from matter in several particulars. 
Mind is self-active ; matter is not. The law of matter is that of 
inertia ; if it is moved at all, it is moved by some force extraneous 
to itself: the mind possesses the power of voluntary motion; it 
acts from within by an energy of its own. The movement of 
matter is caused ; mind is the cause of its own movements. Mat- 
ter has extension and form ; mind does not reveal itself as pos- 
sessing these elements. Matter has length, breadth, and thick- 
ness ; mind, so far as we know, possesses none of these attributes. 
Matter is known by the mind through the senses ; mind is self- 
knowing; it knows itself. Matter reveals itself to us in its 
properties ; mind in its activities and capacities. Neither mind 
nor matter is known in its essence ; we know the properties of 
matter, and the activities of the mind. 

Not Universally Admitted. — This distinction between mind 
and matter is not universally admitted. The disciples of the 
materialistic school of philosophy regard matter as the only one 
thing of which we have any positive knowledge ; and assert that 
we have no authority for predicating the distinct existence of 
mind and matter. They hold that the phenomenon of thinking 
is a function of matter, like extension and motion. Huxley says, 
" We have no knowledge of any thinking substance apart from 
an extended substance." He also remarks that " we shall sooner 
■or later, arrive at a mechanical equivalent of consciousness, just 
as we have arrived at a mechanical equivalent of heat." 

Objections to this View. — This view of the mind we be- 
lieve to be entirely erroneous. It involves the assumption that 
something which cannot know itself as existing (matter) gives 
rise to something which knows both itself and that which pro- 
duced it (mind) ; and yet this knowing something that asserts the 
•existence of itself cannot authenticate its own existence, but can 
authenticate the existence of that which manifested it ! A more 
absurd paradox is not conceivable. The philosophy taught in 
this volume assumes the distinct and independent existence of am 
■entity which we call the mind. 



26 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Menial Faculties. — The mind reveals itself to us by its ac- 
tivities or its capacities for activity. These activities present 
themselves in different forms, which may be compared and readily 
distinguished. Each different form of activity cr capacity for a 
form of activity constitutes what is called a faculty of the mind. 
These faculties can be clearly distinguished, and admit of being 
logically classified. 

A Mental Faculty. — A Mental Faculty may be defined as a 
capacity for a distinct form of mental activity. It is the mind's 
power of doing something, of putting forth some energy, of man- 
ifesting itself in some particular manner. The number of distinct 
faculties, it is evident, must depend on the number of distinct 
forms of mental activity. A careful examination of the various 
ways in which the mind acts has enabled philosophers to enumer- 
ate different faculties and describe their operations. 

The Mind Simple. — The mind, though possessing different 
faculties, is not to be regarded as complex. It is not made up of 
parts, but is rather single and one. It may act in various ways, 
and be regarded as consisting of various capacities, but it is the 
same one thing acting under different forms, or in different ways. 
The mind is a spiritual unity, having many powers ? but enc 
essence. To it may be applied, with especial propriety, the 
motto, E Pluribus Unum. 

A Correct Conception of Mind. — Great care is needful to 
form a correct conception of the mind, which no definition or 
analysis can fully present. The mind is a spiritual unity, with 
many susceptibilities and capacities, but with oneness of person- 
ality. The mind is a self-conscious activity, and not a mere pass- 
ivity ; it is a pulsating centre of forces, all resting in the back- 
ground of the ego. The mind, as a centre of forces, stands 
related to the forces of the material and spiritual universe, and is 
acted upon through its susceptibilities by these forces. As a 
spiritual activity it takes the impressions derived from these 
forces, and works them up into the organic groAvth of itself, con- 
verts tliem into conscious knowledge, and uses these products as 



THE NATURE OF THE MIND. 27 

means to set other forces into activity, and produce new results. 
Standing above nature, and independent of its surroundings, it 
nevertheless feeds upon nature, as we may say, and transforms 
material influences into spiritual facts akin to its own nature. 
Related to the natural world, and apparently originating from it, 
it yet rises above this natural world, and with the crown of free- 
dom upon its brow, rules the natural obedient to its will. 

General Classification. — The mind has been divided into 
three general classes of faculties : the faculties of knowing, feel- 
ing, and willing. These three classes of faculties have been called 
respectively, the Intellect, the Sensibilities, and the Will. Every 
capacity or power which the mind can exercise, is found to fall 
under one of these three heads. Every act of the soul is an act 
either of knowing, feeling, or willing — an act of the Intellect, the 
Sensibilities, or the Will. 

Illustration. — The relation of these three spheres of activity may 
be illustrated in a variety of ways. I read of the destitution and 
suffering of the people of a great city, and understand the means 
taken for their relief: this is an act of the intellect. I feel a 
deep sympathy with this suffering ; my heart is touched with 
pity, and I experience a strong desire to aid in relieving their 
distress : this is an act of the sensibilities. I desire to express 
my feelings of pity and follow my sense of duty, and resolve to 
aid them by sending a contribution or going personally to their 
relief: this is an act of the will. 

Melation of these Powers. — The relation of these three classes 
of powers will indicate the correctness of this " tri-logical classi- 
fication." We can conceive of a being possessed of the power of 
cognition and yet void of all feeling of pain or pleasure, and of 
all power of desire or volition. On the other hand, we cannot 
conceive of a being possessed of feelings and desires without a 
knowledge of those feelings. So also we can conceive of a being 
possessed of knowledge and feeling, yet devoid of the faculty of 
volition and voluntary action. But we cannot conceive of the 
existence or exercise of a power of volition independently of all 



28 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

cognition of an object of thought or some feeling in relation to 
such a volition. 

Origin of this Division. — This threefold division, of tho fac- 
ulties of the mind was first distinctly intimated by Kant. Aris- 
totle spoke of five classes of powers, though the Peripatetic school 
recognized two classes, the cognitive and the conative powers. The 
schoolmen ascribed to man three classes of powers ; the vegetative, 
the perceptive, and the rational. Modern writers on philosophy 
for many years divided the powers into two classes ; the Under- 
standing and the Will, or the speculative and the active powers. 
Gradually the feelings came to be distinguished as a separate men- 
tal state, coordinate with thought and will. The first formally to 
announce this threefold classification of the mind into Intellect, 
Sensibilities, and Will, was Prof. Upham. 

Gradually Developed.- — Prof. Upham presents a large num- 
ber of quotations to show that this division was gradually devel- 
oping in thoughtful minds. Among others, Lord Chesterfield 
says, in a letter to his son on the manner of conducting negotia- 
tions : " If you engage his heart, you have a fair chance for im- 
posing on his understanding, and determining his will." Even 
Shakspeare had made the division by the intuition of his marvel- 
ous genius, for he says, 

"It shows a will most incorrect to heaven, 
A heart unfortified, 
An understanding simple and unschooled." 

This classification is now universally accepted by those who 
make any formal division of the faculties, and it is the basis of 
the treatment in the present work. 

General Suggestions. — In the study of the mind two gen- 
eral suggestions are made. First, the student should test the 
statements of the author by a reference to the action of his own 
mind. He must learn to look within, to bend the mind in upon 
itself, and notice and analyze his own mental operations. The 
test of a fact or theory should be his own consciousness. Second, 
he should be careful not to think of his mind as separate from 



THE NATURE OF THE MIND. 29 

himself. The mind is one's self, not merely something belonging 
to one's self. And so in respect to our faculties ; we should not 
regard a faculty as a part of the mind, as a blade is a part of a 
knife, but rather as a form of the activity of the mind. The 
mind is single and one, a unity of substance with a variety 
of powers. It is one and the same ego that perceives, remem- 
bers, reasons, etc. 

Having now explained the general nature of the mind, with 
its three great classes of powers, we proceed to a detailed descrip- 
tion of these powers and the laws of their activity. The next 
chapter contains a complete outline of the subject, and may be 
called the alphabet of Mental Science. Any one who has thor- 
oughly mastered it, has implanted in his mind the germs of the 
entire subject of Mental Philosophy. 



CHAPTEE III. 

THE FACULTIES OF THE MIND. 

THE Mind is that which thinks, feels, and wills. It is that 
immaterial principle which we call the soul, the spirit, or the 
intelligence. Of its essence or substance, nothing is known ; we 
know it only by its activities and its operations. The different 
forms of activity which it presents, indicate different mental 
powers, which are called Faculties of the mind. 

A Menial Faculty. — A Mental Faculty is a capacity for a 
distinct form of mental activity. It is the mind's power of doing 
something, of putting forth some energy, of manifesting itself in 
some particular manner. The mind possesses as many faculties 
as there are distinct forms of mental activity. In order, there- 
fore, to ascertain the different faculties of the mind, we must 
notice carefully the various ways in which the mind acts. 

General Classification*— -The mind embraces three general 
classes of faculties; the Intellect, the Sensibilities, and the Will. 
Every capacity or power which the mind possesses falls under 
one of these three heads. Every mental act is an act of the In- 
tellect, the Sensibilities, or the Will. Every product of the mind 
is either an intellection, & feeling, or a volition. 

The Mind Triune. — The mind is thus a tri-unity, — one sub- 
stance with a trinity of powers. The doctrine of the Trinity is 
as evident in the creature as in the Creator. Made in the image 
of God, the mind reflects the nature of the divine pattern after 
which it was fashioned. As in God we have the Father, the Son, 
and the Holy Spirit ; so in man we have the Intellect, the Sensi- 
bilities, and the Will. 

The Intellect. — The Intellect is the power by which we think 

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THE FACULTIES OF THE MIND. 31 

and know. Its products arc ideas and thoughts. An Idea is a 
mental product, which may be expressed in one or more words, 
not forming a proposition ; as, a man, an animal, etc. A Thought 
is a mental product consisting of the combination of two or more 
ideas, which when expressed in words, gives us a proposition ; as, 
a man is an animal. Our notions of the different figures of 
geometry, as angles, triangles, squares, etc., are ideas; while our 
ccncepticns of axioms and theorems are thoughts. 

The Sensibilities. — The Sensibilities are the powers by which 
we feel. Their products are emotions, affections, and desires. An 
emotion is a simple feeling, as the emotion of joy, sorrow, etc. 
An affection is an emotion that goes out towards an object; as love, 
hate, envy, etc. A desire is an emotion that goes out to an object 
with the wish of possession; as the desire of wealth, fame, etc. 

The Will. — The Will is the power of deciding or determining 
what to do and of putting forth volitions accordingly. It is the 
executive power of the mind, the power by which man becomes 
the conscious author of an intentional act. It is the motive 
power of the mind ; by it we put the other faculties into activity 
and control their action. The products of the Will are volitions 
and voluntary actions. It is in the domain of the Will that man 
becomes a moral and responsible being. 

The Intellect. — The Intellect embraces several distinct facul- 
ties; Perception, Memory, Imagination, Understanding, and Intu- 
ition, or the Reason. This classification of the Intellect is now 
almost universally accepted, though writers occasionally differ in 
the terms they use to name the different powers. 

Perception. — Perception is the power by which we gain a 
knowledge of external objects through the senses. It is the 
faculty by which we gain a knowledge of objects and their quali- 
ties. Its products are ideas of external objects and of the quali- 
ties of objects. The products of perception are called percepts. 
The ideas which we possess of persons, places, things, etc., are 
mainly given by perception. 

Memory. — Memory is the power by which we retain and recall 



32 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

knowledge. It enables us to hold fast to the knowledge we have 
acquired, and also to recall it when we wish to use it. These two 
offices of the Memory are distinguished as Retention and Recollec- 
tion. By some writers these are regarded as separate faculties ; 
and others again discard the element of retention. Besides these, 
the memory also gives us a representation of that which it recalls, 
and recognizes it as something of our past experience. 

Imagination. — Imagination is the power by which we form 
ideal conceptions. It is the power of forming mental images by 
uniting different parts of objects given by perception, and also of 
creating ideals of objects different from anything we have per- 
ceived. Thus, I can conceive of a flying horse by uniting my ideas 
of wings and a horse ; or I can imagine a landscape or a strain 
of music different from anything I have ever seen or heard. Im- 
agination is thus the power of ideal creation. 

Understanding. — The Understanding is the power by which 
we compare objects of thought and derive abstract and general 
ideas and truths. It is the elaborative power of the mind ; it 
takes the materials furnished by the other faculties and works 
them up into new products. Its products are abstract and general 
ideas, truths, laws, causes, etc. 

Intuition. — Intuition, or the Reason, is the power which gives 
us ideas and thoughts not furnished by the senses nor elaborated 
by the Understanding. Its products are called primary ideas and 
primary truths. The Primary Ideas are such as Space, Time, 
Cause, Identity, the True, the Beautiful, and the Good. The 
Primary Truths are all self-evident truths, as the axioms of math- 
ematics and logic. 

The Understanding. — The Understanding embraces several 
distinct faculties or forms of mental activity. These are Abstrac- 
tion, Conception, Judgment, and Reasoning. This division is now 
almost universally adopted, and the same terms are employed by 
nearly all modern writers. 

Abstraction. — Abstraction is the poAver of forming abstract 
[ideas. It is the power by which the mind draws a quality away 



THE FACULTIES OF THE MIND. 33 

from its object, and makes of it a distinct object of thought. Its 
products are abstract ideas, such as hardness, softness, color, etc. 
The naming of abstract ideas gives us abstract terms. The term 
Abstraction is derived from ab, from, and tralw, I draw, and signi- 
fies a drawing from. 

Conception. — Conception is the power of forming general 
ideas. By it we take several particular ideas, and unite their 
common properties, and thus form a general idea which embraces 
them all. The products of Conception are general ideas, or ideas 
of classes ; as horse, bird, man, etc. The naming of general ideas 
gives us common terms. This faculty is often called Generaliza- 
tion ; but the term Conception is more appropriate, and is the one 
generally adopted by logicians. The term Conception is derived 
from con, together, and capio, I take, and signifies a taking 
together. 

Judgment. — -Judgment is the power of perceiving the agree- 
ment or disagreement of two objects of thought. It is the power 
of comparison. It compares one object directly with another, and 
gives us a proposition. A proposition is a judgment expressed in 
words. Thus, a bird is an animal, is a judgment expressed. The 
term Judgment is applied to both the mental faculty and its 
product. 

Reasoning. — Reasoning is the power of comparing two ideas 
through their relation to a third. It is a process of indirect or 
mediate comparison. It deals with three objects of thought, and 
requires three propositions. Thus, suppose I wish to compare A 
and B, and perceiving no relation between them, see that A 
equals C, and B equals C, and thus infer that A equals B ; such 
an inference is an act of reasoning. 

The Syllogism. — Tne form in which reasoning is expressed is 
called a Syllogism. A Syllogism consists of three propositions so 
related that one is an inference from the other two. Two of these 
propositions are called the premises and the third the conclusion. 
Thus, in the above example the two propositions, "A equals C" 
and "B equals C," are the premises; and "A equals B" is the 
conclusion. 



34 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Inductive Reasoning. — Reasoning is of two kinds; Inductive 
Reasoning and Deductive Reasoning. Inductive Reasoning is the 
process of deriving a general truth from particular truths. Thus, 
if I find that heat expands several metals, as zinc, iron, copper, etc., 
I may infer that heat will expand all metals. Such an inference 
of a general truth from the particular facts is called Induction. 
Inductive Reasoning proceeds upon the principle that what is true 
of the many is true of the whole. 

Deductive Reasoning. — Deductive Reasoning is the process of 
deriving a particular truth from a general truth. Thus, from the 
general proposition that heat expands all metals, I may infer by 
Deduction that heat will expand any particular metal, as silver. 
Deduction proceeds upon the principle that what is true of the 
whole is true of the parts. 

Other Forms of Activity. — Besides the faculties now named, 
two other forms of mental activity or mental states are usually 
described by writers on mental science ; namely, Consciousness 
and Attention. These are not regarded as specific faculties of the 
mind, but as conditions or accompaniments of these faculties. A 
term very frequently used in mental philosophy also is that of 
Conception, which also requires a few Avords of explanation. 

Consciousness. — Consciousness is the power or attribute of the 
mind by which it knows its own states and actions. The term is 
derived from con, with, and scio, I know, and means a knowing 
with the mental acts or states. It is a kind of inner light by 
which one knows what is going on within his mind ; it is a revealer 
of the internal phenomena of thought, feeling, and will. Con- 
sciousness is regarded as an attribute of the mind, involved in the 
very idea of mind, and not as a distinct mental faculty. 

Attention. — Attention is the power of directing the mind volun- 
tarily to any object of thought to the exclusion of others. It is 
the power of selecting one of several objects, and concentrating 
the mental energies upon it. Attention is not a distinct form of 
mental activity, but is involved in and underlies the activity of 
all the faculties. The voluntary operation of any of the mental 



THE FACULTIES OF THE MIND. 35 

powers, as Perception, Memory, etc., carries with it an act of at- 
tention. The term is derived from ad, to, and tendo, I bend, 
which was probably suggested by the attitude of the body in 
listening attentively to a sound. 

Conception. — The term Conception is often used in a general 
and popular sense, meaning that power which the mind has cf 
making anything a distinct object of thought. In this sense it is 
intimately related to all the mental faculties. Thus I can con- 
ceive of a tree or a horse which I have seen, a landscape which I 
may not have seen, a proposition in geometry, a truth in natural 
philosophy, etc. Some writers have used the term in a more spe- 
cific sense, as the power of forming an exact transcript of a past 
perception. In Logic the term is restricted to the power of form- 
ing general ideas, as we have previously defined it. 

Hamilton's Classification. — Sir Win. Hamilton, one of the 
most eminent philcsophers of modern times, presents a classifica- 
tion of the intellect which has been much admired for its sim- 
plicity and the suggestive character of the terms used. He 
divides the Intellect into the Presentative, Conservative, Repro- 
ductive, Representative, Elaborative, and Regulative powers. 

The Presentative power is that which presents knowledge to the 
mind ; it corresponds to Perception. The Conservative power is 
that which retains or preserves knowledge in the mind ; it corres- 
ponds to the retentive element of the Memory. The Reproductive 
power is that which reproduces knowledge in the mind ; it corres- 
ponds to the recalling element of the Memory. The Representa- 
tive power is that which represents knowledge to the mind ; it 
corresponds to the Imagination. The Elaborative power is that 
which works up or elaborates the knowledge attained by the other 
faculties ; it corresponds to the Understanding. The Regulative 
power is that which regulates the activities of the other faculties ; 
it corresponds to the Reason. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE CULTURE OF THE MIND. 

THE Science of Education treats of the developing of the 
powers of man and the furnishing of his mind with know- 
ledge. The developing of the powers is called culture, and the 
furnishing of the mind with knowledge is called instruction. A 
formal treatment of the methods of cultivating the mind is called 
Methods of Culture; a formal treatment of the methods of in- 
structing the mind is called Methods of Instruction. 

Nature of Culture. — Methods of Culture treats of the nature 
of the powers of man and how to develop them. It includes 
several branches, such as Physical Culture, Intellectual Cul- 
ture, iEsthetic Culture, Moral Culture, and Religious Culture. 
The present work treats of the nature of the mind and the 
methods of cultivating it, and is entitled Mental Science and 
Mental Culture. Our purpose, therefore, is not only to describe 
the different faculties of the mind, but also to discuss the methods 
of cultivating them. Having given an idea of the general nature 
of the mind, we now present a few principles relating to its 
culture. These may be called the fundamental principles of 
mental culture. 

1. The object of mental culture is the fullest development and 
highest activity of the faculties of the mind. The mind is developed 
by culture. Its powers are strengthened and made to act with 
vigor and skill by judicious training. Without such training the 
mind may either remain comparatively inert, or its activities may 
conflict with the normal laws of mental development and fail to 
produce the best fruits of culture and knowledge. In this respect 
the mind is like a field, and mental culture like the culture of 
the soil. Left to itself, a farm may be overrun with weeds and 

(36) 



THE CULTURE OF THE MIND. 37 

briers, while if subjected to the careful culture of the husband- 
man, it will teem with golden harvests. So the mind, if left to 
itself, may waste its energies and acquire incorrect habits of 
activity ; while if subjected to the guiding hand of culture, it may 
develop in normal strength and vigor, and bring forth rich 
harvests of precious knowledge. 

2. One of the primary conditions of mental culture is a well- 
organized and healthy brain. The mind acts largely, if not en- 
tirely, through or by means of the brain. In its first activities of 
sensation, the brain and nervous system are an essential condition 
and medium of mental activity. Impressions made upon the 
nerves are transmitted to the brain, and there emerge in conscious 
knowledge. Subsequently thought becomes abstract and seems 
to be independent of the brain ; yet experience proves that the 
power of abstract thought depends for clearness and vigor upon 
the condition of the physical system. Indeed, it is not certain 
that genius and hereditary mental traits may not depend on some 
subtle organic peculiarity of the brain. It is, therefore, an estab- 
lished fact, that for the best results in mental culture we must 
endeavor to secure the best condition of the brain and nervous 
system. "A sound mind in a sound body" is a maxim not to 
be forgotten in mental culture. 

3. The mind is cultivated by the activity of its faculties. The 
mind is a spiritual activity and grows by its own inherent 
energies. Mental exercise is thus the law of mental develop- 
ment. As a muscle grows strong by use, so any faculty of the 
mind is developed by its proper use and exercise. An inactive 
mind, like an unused muscle, becomes weak and unskillful. 
Hang the arm in a sling and the muscle becomes flabby and 
loses its vigor and skill; let the mind remain inactive, and it 
acquires a mental flabbiness, that unfits it for any severe or pro- 
longed activity. An idle mind loses its tone and strength, like 
an unused muscle ; the mental powers go to rust through idleness 
and inaction. / To develop the faculties of the mind and secure 
their highest activity and efficiency there must be a constant and 



38 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

judicious exercise of these faculties. The object of culture is to 
stimulate and direct the activity of the mind. 

4. The activity of the mind requires objective realities for it to act 
upon. The mind cannot act upon itself; there must be material 
for it to act upon. ■ As a power to know, it demands an external 
world of knowledge to meet the wants of the internal knowing 
subject. There is such a world of knowledge suited to and cor- 
relating with every mental activity. The material world is seen 
to be an embodiment of thought, and the mind begins its activities 
with the objects of the material world. The mind itself has de- 
veloped knowledge by its powers of thought, which is also adapted 
to give culture to each faculty and capacity. This adaptation is 
manifest, since knowledge, as the product of cue mind, must be 
suited to the different capacities of all minds. The mind begins 
its activity with the knowledge thus furnished ; it then passes to 
the creation of knowledge for itself, which affords it its highest 
and best activity. It is thus apparent that the culture of the 
mind requires objective realities, and that these realities are 
abundantly furnished. 

5. E:ich faculty of the mind requires a culture adapted to itself. 
The mind possesses a variety of powers, and each cue of these 
powers operates with different material, and has an activity 
peculiar to itself. Each power needs different materials for its 
activity; what would be best for one faculty would not be the 
appropriate material for some other faculty. We need concrete 
objects for perception, facts for the memory, abstract truth for the 
judgment and the power of reasoning, beauty for the imagination, 
moral truth for the conscience, etc. Besides this difference of 
material, there is also a difference in the activity of the different 
faculties; the memory operates in one way, the understanding in 
another, etc. Both of these things, the material and the methods 
of activity, are to be taken into consideration in the culture of 
the mind. Each faculty, therefore, requires, for its training and 
development, a culture peculiar to itself. 

6. The culture of the mind should be adapted to the order of the 



THE CULTURE OF THE MINI). 39 

development of its faculties. The different faculties do not develop 
simultaneously. Though all are active from the earliest dawn of 
intelligence, yet they are active in different degrees at different 
periods. Some faculties are much more active in childhood, and 
others need the maturity of years for their mature and full de- 
velopment. The natural order of their development should be 
understood and followed in culture. To endeavor to force all the 
faculties to equal activity in childhood would be a mistake 
injurious to the mind and subversive of the best results of culture. 
The true order of development should be carefully studied and 
distinctly understood, and the work of culture adapted thereto. 

7. The culture of the mind should aim at a harmonious develop- 
ment of all the faculties. Man possesses a multiplicity of capacities 
and powers, all of which contribute to his well-being and his 
dignity. These powers are so related that they may be unfolded 
in very nearly equal proportions, and harmoniously blend in the 
final results of culture. For the attainment of a true ideal of 
education such a development is required. A perfectly developed 
manhocd or womanhood implies the complete development of 
every capacity and every gift. The training of the mind, there- 
fore, should reach every power and unfold every capacity. The 
high aim of culture should be the full and harmonious develop- 
ment of all the faculties. 

8. The culture of the mind should be modified by the different 
tastes and talents of a pupil. While all minds possess the same 
general powers, these powers are often possessed in different de- 
grees. There is often an unusual gift of some one power or 
combination of powers which gives us what we call genius. 
Tastes or dispositions for different activities or pursuits also vary. 
Such differences are not to be overlooked in mental culture. 
While we should aim to give a general development to all the 
faculties, we should not forget these special gifts. Genius should 
be recognized, and an opportunity given for its highest develop- 
ment and achievements. An unusual gift for poetry, or music, 
or mathematics, or natural science, should be carefully noticed, 



40 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

and efforts made for its highest culture. It is these gifts which 
enrich science and art, and add to the sum of human knowledge ; 
and the progress of science and art demands that genius shall have 
the most abundant opportunities for its full and complete de- 
velopment. 

9. The culture of the mind is not creative in its character ; its 
object is to develop existing possibilities into realities. The mind 
possesses innate powers, which may be awakened into a natural 
activity. The design of culture is to aid nature in improving 
the powers she has given. No new power can be created by 
culture ; we can increase the activity of these powers, but cannot 
develope any new activities. Through these activities new ideas 
and thoughts may be developed, and the sum of human know- 
ledge increased; but this is accomplished by a high activity of 
the natural powers with which the mind is endowed, and not by 
the culture of new powers. The profound philosopher uses the 
same faculties that the little child is developing in the games of 
the nursery. The object of culture is to arouse the powers which 
nature has given us into a normal activity, and to stimulate and 
guide them in their unfolding. 

10. The idtimate end of culture is the attainment of the triune re- 
sults — development, learning, and efficiency. The primary object 
of culture is the growth and development of the faculties. A 
correct culture, however, naturally leads to the acquisition of 
knowledge; the man of cultured mind endeavors to enrich his 
memory with the truths of science and to become a learned man 
as well as a thinker. A second result of culture is thus seen to 
be the furnishing of the mind with knowledge. It is not enough, 
however, that the mind has well-developed powers and is richly 
furnished with knowledge. There should be the power to make 
use of this culture, and knowledge. The educateel man should be 
able to do as well as to think and know. A third result of culture 
is, therefore, the acquisition of skill in the use of the mind and of 
knowledge. In cultivating the mind, therefore, the aim should be 
to attain the three ends — mdture, knowledge, and efficiency. 



MENTAL ATTRIBUTES. 

QSTOT FACULTIES.) 



T. CONSCIOUSNESS. 

I. Nature of Consciousness. 
II. Culture of Consciousness. 

II. ATTENTION. 

I. Nature of Attention. 
II. Culture of Attention. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE NATURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

CONSCIOUSNESS is the power by which the mind knows its 
own states and actions. It is that attribute of the mind by 
which it is aware of whatever it feels or does. It is the self- 
knowing attribute of the soul ; the attribute by which it knows 
itself, its states, actions, and products. 

The mind has not only the power of knowing, but it has also 
the power of self-knowing, of knowing its own acts and states. 
Thus, when we perceive, or judge, or reason, we are aware of 
these mental actions. Not to be aware of these actions would be 
not to perform them. So, also, the mind knows its own mental 
states or conditions. When it is joyous or sad, loving or hating, 
sympathizing or repining, it is aware of these feelings, and could 
not have them unless it was conscious of them. This attribute of 
the mind by which it is aware of what takes place within itself, is 
now by all philosophers called consciousness. 

The Term Consciousness. — The term consciousness is derived 
from con, with, and scio, I know, and means a knowing with. 
Consciousness is thus the power of knowing with the other 
cognitive acts of the mind. The term is related to conscience, 
and was formerly used almost exclusively to designate the moral 
sense. The first to employ this term in its present signification, 
in distinction from its ethical meaning, was Descartes. The early 
Greek writers, Plato and Aristotle, had no special term to express 
that attribute of the soul by which it knows its own states and 
operations. Locke discusses it under the head of Reflection. 

Various Dejij^iiioiis. — The power of Consciousness has been 
variously defined by w T riters on Mental Philosophy. Wayland 

(-13) 



44 MENTAL SCIENCE.. 

defines it as that condition of the mind in which it is cognizant 
of its own operations. Cousin says it is that function of the 
intelligence which gives us information of everything that takes 
place in the interior of our minds. Prof. Tappan makes it the 
necessary knowledge which the mind has of its own operations. 
Dr. Porter says it is the power by which the soul knows its own 
acts and states. 

Difficulty of Defining.— -The difficulty of defining conscious- 
ness arises from the notion being so elementary that it cannot be 
resolved into any others more simple. It does not thus admit of 
a logical definition, although it may be illustrated and philosophi- 
cally analyzed. It is frequently described by analogies, some of 
which illustrate and others perhaps obscure the subject. It has 
been called "an inner light,'' by means of which what passes in 
the mind is rendered visible. It has been called an "inner 
illumination," a "revealer of mental phenomena," and "the light 
of all our seeing." Dr. Hickok says : " The conception is not of 
a faculty, but of a light ; not of an action, but of an illumination ; 
not of a maker of phenomena, but of a revealer of them as already 
made." It has also been called the "inner sense" in distinction 
from the sense which perceives external objects. 

Consciousness not a Faculty. — Consciousness is not re- 
garded as a faculty of the mind, but rather as an attribute 
necessary to its existence. It is not a distinct form of mental 
activity, but rather a characteristic of mind by which it is aware 
of these activities. It is a necessary attribute of the mind that it 
not only acts but knows that it acts. A machine works, but does 
not know that it works ; the mind not only works, but knows its 
*wn workings. Such an attribute is implied in the very idea of 
mind. We cannot conceive of a being with powers to know and 
leel without the power of being conscious of such activities. 

Involved in Mental Activity. — Consciousness is involved in 
and is essential to all mental activity. An act or state of my 
mind exists only as I am conscious of its existence. Thus to 
know is to know that I know ; to feel is to know that I feel ; to 



THE NATURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 45 

will is to know that I will. The knowing, the feeling, the willing, 
are possible only under the condition of their being known to 
me. If I did not know that I know, I Avould not know. If I 
did not know that I feel, I would not feel ; if I did not know 
that I will, I would not will. It is this power of knowing these 
acts and states that we mean by consciousness. The expressions, 
I know that I know, I know that I feel, I know that I will, may 
be translated into I am conscious that I know, I am conscious 
that I feel, I am conscious that I will. 

Basis of Mental Activity. — Consciousness lies at the basis of 
all mental activity. All the faculties rest in it, and are of use to 
us only as their acts and products are revealed by it. It is, 
therefore, the source and root of all knowledge. It is an ultimate 
attribute of the soul: there is nothing below the consciousness 
upon which it rests. There is no sub-consciousness to reveal the 
revelations of consciousness. It is not necessary that we have 
some power by which we may know that we are conscious of a 
certain act, by which we may know that we " know we know," 
for that would involve us in the absurdity of a mental series ad 
infinitum. The revelations of consciousness must therefore be re- 
garded as final and ultimate. 

Kinds of Consciousness. — Writers speak of two kinds of 
consciousness; the natural, or spontaneous, and the artificial, or 
reflective consciousness. They are also distinguished as the 
primary and secondary consciousness. Natural consciousness is 
the power which the mind naturally and necessarily possesses of 
knowing its own states and actions. Reflective consciousness is 
the natural consciousness exercised with intentional and persistent 
effort. It is consciousness applied to mental phenomena for the 
purpose of scientific investigation. It is what is called reflection, 
or an intentional bending of the mind inward to observe its 
mental operations. It is the result of a philosophical habit of 
mind, and may be called philosophical consciousness. 

This distinction is one of degree rather than of kind. The first 
form of consciousness is a gift of nature and the result of sponta- 



46 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

neous development; the second form is an acquirement of art 
and the result of special effort. The former is employed by all 
men ; the latter is acquired by only a few. The natural precedes 
the reflective in order of time; the reflective is a development of 
the natural consciousness. The reflective consciousness is closely 
related to the subjective phase of attention described in the next 
chapter. 

I. The Objects of Consciousness. — As consciousness lies at 
the basis of all knowledge and reveals every mental act and state, 
it is evidently important to know precisely what is given by it. 
Any mistake here is fundamental, affecting all that follows and 
vitiating the entire system of psychology. The authority of con- 
sciousness is ultimate and its testimony final ; hence nothing must 
be rejected or omitted, which is found in consciousness. It is 
only necessary to establish the fact of the existence of any 
element in consciousness, not to show its possibility, in order to 
determine the facts of mental philosophy. 

Affords Actual Knowledge. — Consciousness affords actual 
and not potential knowledge. Not what we may know or have 
known, but what we do at the present time know, is a fact of con- 
sciousness. Thus, a person is said to know that 2X-± are 8, though 
this proposition be not at the moment the object of ids thought; 
but we cannot say that he is conscious of this truth unless it is 
actually present to his mind. We are conscious only of actual 
states, not possible ones; we are conscious of what is now in, the 
mind, and not of what may be or may have been there. 

Immediate Knowledge. — Consciousness affords immediate 
and not mediate knowledge. In an act of memory we are said to 
know a past occurrence. What we know immediately, however, 
is the mental representation or idea of the past ; and we know 
the past occurrence itself, not immediately but mediately, through 
the mental modification which represents it. We arc conscious 
of the representation as immediately known ; but we cannot be 
said to be conscious of the thing represented, which, if known at 
all, is known only through its representation. 



THE NATURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 47 

Conscious of Mental States. — Primarily, we are conscious of 
our own mental states and operations. When we perceive, Ave are 
conscious of perceiving; when we think, we are conscious of 
thinking; when we remember, will, love, hate, etc., we are con- 
scious of these mental acts and states. Not to be conscious of 
them would be to be conscious of nothing. Whether the mind 
knows itself or not, it must know its own acts and states. They 
come and go, they rise and fall like the waves of the ocean, each 
pressing forward and taking the place of the one that went before. 
Consciousness catches them as they rise, and knows them, at least 
for the passing moment. 

Conscious of Self. — Secondly, I am conscious also of myself 
as the basis of these acts and states. I know these states and 
actions to be my own states and actions. This is the cognition of 
the self or ego, as the subject or background of these acts and 
states. The states and actions come and go; the self remains 
permanent and unchanged. 

Self-eonsciousness a Necessity. — Such a conception of self is a 
necessary element of an act of consciousness. Without theego 
or self, the s.ates and actions could not exist ; and we cannot 
be conscious of the latter without a consciousness also of the 
former. A mental state which is not experienced in connection 
with the idea of an individual self, is as impassible as a triangle 
without three angles, or a square without four sides. This con- 
sciousness of the ego is, however, denied by some philosophers, as 
Hume and Brown. Others again, as Stewart and Hamilton, who 
admit it, claim that it is not immediate and intuitive, but a de- 
rived and secondary knowledge. 

Co)isciousness of Self Immediate. — This consciousness of the 
ego, we hold, is not the result of reflection, but is direct and 
immediate. We are not first conscious of the mental state and 
then forced to look around for something to which it may be re- 
ferred ; but what we know, we know belongs to the ego, to ourseif. 
The experience of a mental state without the cognition of it as my 
own mental state is as inconceivable as a mind without faculty 



48 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

or the memory without the power of remembering. The con- 
sciousness of the mental state is necessarily and inseparably asso- 
ciated with the consciousness of the self as experiencing it. 

Conscious of Products. — Thirdly, we are also conscious of 
the result or product of these states and activities. I am conscious 
not only of the process of forming an idea, but also of the idea 
formed. I am aware not only of the act of judging, but of the 
thought obtained by the act of judgment. In an act of reasoning, 
I am conscious not only of the process of reasoning, but of the 
truth attained by the reasoning process. So in an act of imagi : 
nation, I am conscious of the mental image formed as well as of 
the act of forming it. It is thus apparent that consciousness re- 
veals both the mental act and the mental product resulting from 
the act. 

Conscious of the Object. — Sir William Hamilton goes a step 
further, and says that we are conscious of the object of a mental 
act as well as the act and its product. Thus in perception we are 
conscious of the object which we perceive; for, he asks, how can 
we know that a perception exists if we do not know what we per- 
ceive? How would I know I perceived a rose, if I was not con- 
scious of the rose? "Annihilate the object, and you annihilate 
the operation ; annihilate the consciousness of the object, you 
annihilate the consciousness of the operation." 

II. Products of Consciousness. — Having seen the general 
character of the products of consciousness, let us see what are its 
revelations in connection with each one of the various faculties. 

In Perception. — In an act of perception we are conscious of 
two distinct elements, the subject perceiving and the object per- 
ceived. In every case of perception there is a clear apprehension 
of these two elements, — the self and the not-self, the ego and the 
non-ego. Thus in the perception of a tree, I am distinctly con- 
scious of the tree as seen and of myself as seeing it. Whether 
this was an original distinction or is one derived from experience, 
has been questioned. That we have made this distinction from 
our earliest recollections, we know ; and it would thus seem to be 



THE NATURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 4$ 

a primitive fact of our nature. At any rate, it is a present fact 
of consciousness, and must be accepted as such. We never for a 
moment do imagine, nor can we imagine, ourselves and the object 
perceived to be one and the same. If the object of perception is 
merely an affection of the organism, as in smell and hearing, the 
affection perceived is cognized as distinct from the mind perceiv- 
ing it. In every act of perception, a self and a not-self are brought 
face to face, and are known as distinct from each other. , 

In Memory. — In memory we recall the object of thought and 
represent it by an image or a word, and recognize it as a fact of 
our previous experience. We are conscious of the act of recall- 
ing (when the recollection is not spontaneous), of the representa- 
tive object before the mind, and of its relation to our past exper- 
ience. This, however, is all that is revealed. There is no con- 
sciousness of anything outside of the mind itself. We may be 
conscious that the image before the mind bears some relation to 
an object without the mind ; but the external object is not con- 
templated as present, and is itself not an object of consciousness. 
In memory, therefore, there is a consciousness of an image or 
some general product in the mind, of the fact of this having been 
retained, of the act by which it was restored, and of the recog- 
nition of it as a thing of our former experience. 

In Imagination. — In an act of imagination we are conscious 
of the act of representation and of the product thus formed. We 
are conscious of the materials used in the formation or creation 
of this product, whether of sight or sound. We are also con- 
scious that the image produced is not a representation of any- 
thing real which we have before seen or heard, but that it is a 
mere creation of the mind. In memory we know that the mental 
product is a representative of something real ; in imagination we 
know that it is an ideal of the mind's own creation. 

In the Understanding. — The same thing holds true in re- 
spect to the operations of the understanding. In this faculty we 
are conscious of the ideas and truths, — the materials with which 
we work, — of the acts by which we elaborate them into new pro- 
3 



50 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ducts, and of the products which result from these operations. 
In judgment we are conscious of the act of comparing, of the 
objects of thought compared, and of the thought which results 
from the comparison. So in reasoning we are conscious of our 
premises, of the relation between them, and of the inference or 
truth derived from these relations. 

In Intuition. — In an act of the intuitive power, we are con- 
scious of the ideas and thoughts to which it gives rise. We are 
conscious of the ideas of Space, Time, Cause, the True, the Beau- 
tiful, the Good, etc., and also of the belief that these have an 
existence outside and independent of our minds. We are also 
conscious of the infinitude of Time and Space, of the infinite chain 
of causation, of the logical necessity of a First Cause, etc. We 
are also conscious of the truths of intuition, as the axioms of 
geometry and logic, of the necessity and incontradictability of 
these truths, etc. 

In Sensibility and Will. — So also in the domain of Sensibility 
and Will ; consciousness reveals all that pertains to the activity 
and results of these powers, to their processes and their products. 
We are conscious of each individual feeling, and when attention 
is directed to them, of the relations of these feelings, of their 
similarities and differences. In an effort of the will we are con- 
scious of a choice when one is made, and of the executive volition 
to carry out this choice into action. 

The Basis of Mental Science. — It is thus seen that conscious- 
ness lies at the basis of all mental activities. It is also the found- 
ation of the study of mental philosophy. We know only what 
consciousness reveals, or what is properly to be inferred from 
these revelations. The test of a fact or phenomenon, in the study 
of mental science, is its revelation by consciousness. In other 
words, the mind must be studied in the light of consciousness. 
The student of mental philosophy must learn to bend the mind 
in upon itself to observe its own actions and products. He must 
test each fact and theory by his own experience. 

III. Unconscious Mental Modifications. — The doctrine of 



THE NATUEE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 51 

latent modifications of consciousness has been held by several phil- 
osophers of eminence, among whom we may name Leibnitz and 
Hamilton. Some writers object to the expression " latent modifi- 
cations " as being infelicitous ; but it means to express that there 
are some affections of the mind of which we are unconscious. 
This doctrine may be shown to be true in respect to the activities 
of several of the faculties. 

In Perception. — The senses are often affected by objects 
which do not rise into consciousness. Thus the greenness of the 
forest which we see is made up of parts of green of which we are 
not conscious. No single leaf perhaps is visible ; but the green- 
ness of the forest is made up of the greenness of these leaves. 
That is, the total impression of which we are conscious is made 
up of an infinitude of small impressions of which we are not 
conscious. The same is true of the sound of the sea ; a single 
wave does not seem to affect the ear, while the combined sound of 
many waves is distinctly heard. Now, each wave must contribute 
its share in affecting the mind, or the whole could not be heard 

In Memory. — The same seems to be true in respect to the 
memory. We find one thought rising in consciousness imme- 
diately after another, but without any perceptible relation between 
them. In such cases Hamilton holds that the links which united 
them did not rise into consciousness : just as in a roAv of billiard 
balls touching one another, if the first ball is struck, the force is 
transmitted to the last ball, which, flies off, while the other balls 
remain stationary. The intermediate balls represent the inter- 
mediate ideas in the chain of association which do not rise into 
a nsciousness in the case supposed. 

In Other Faculties. — The mind may probably be affected in 
every faculty by modifications which do not rise into conscious- 
ness. These unconscious affections give a bias to the mind, and 
affect those acts and states of which it is conscious. There are, 
no doubt, thousands of unconscious influences operating upon 
the soul, that give a tinge of coloring to our thoughts and feel- 
ings, and help to shape our opinions and characters. 



52 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Slight Attention. — Many instances cited of unconscious mod- 
ifications are, however, probably examples of slight attention. 
An object may make so slight an impression on the mind as not 
to be noticed at the time, and yet may be revived with great dis- 
tinctness. I write a letter to-day, and notice no error in my 
writing ; to-morrow, after I have mailed it, I recall a misspelled 
word or a mistake in grammar. So some part of an object ob- 
served may escape my attention at the time, but afterward it 
occurs to the memory with great distinctness. These are not 
examples of latent modification of consciousness, but of slight 
attention. 

IV. Development op Conscious Knowledge. — The revela- 
tions of consciousness are not fixed and unchangeable in their 
character. They differ at the different ages of each individual 
and at different ages of the world. New ideas and thoughts arise 
in the human mind, and the revelations of to-day are not identical 
with the revelations of yesterday or to-morrow. There is a signifi- 
cance in this fact that leads us to give it a brief consideration. 

In the Individual Mind. — The growth of conscious knowl- 
edge is attested by the experience of each individual mind. New 
ideas and truths rise gradually into consciousness. The influences 
of our surroundings make impressions on the mind or the nervous 
system of which at the time we are unconscious. These impress- 
ions are repeated and react upon one another ; and at last they 
emerge in consciousness in the. form of an idea. A book read but 
once leaves only a vague impression of its thought and sentiment ; 
the book re-read, or other books read treating of the same sub- 
ject, may be the occasion of these vague impressions appearing in 
the form of definite ideas in consciousness. 

Many ideas or impressions seem to stop in the outer court of 
unconsciousness, accumulating there and acting upon each other 
and upon the soul ; they are at last lifted up into conscious cogni- 
tion as definite intellectual products. The mind, as it were, trans- 
mutes the impression on the nervous system into spiritual entities ; 
in other words, the living soul has a potency by which it can 



THE NATURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 53 

transform its unconscious impressions into knowledge, and lift 
thern up out of unconsciousness into the light of consciousness. 
The poet had a faint glimpse of this when he wrote : 

"All thought begins in feeling, — wide 
In the great mass its base is hid, 
And, narroAving up to thought, stands glorified, 
A moveless pyramid." 

In the Universal Mind. — This is true also of the universal 
as well as of the individual mind, as is attested by the experience 
of the race. In nearly every age some new truth or some new 
phase of an old truth has dawned upon the consciousness of 
humanity. At one time a nation believes in, or is indifferent to, 
the practice of human slavery ; in a few years there grows up in 
the consciousness of the nation such an abhorrence of the insti- 
tution that dealing in human chattels would be regarded as a 
crime of deepest dye. Governments are revolutionized and 
thrones drenched in blood through the development of anew idea 
of freedom or a clearer recognition of some old one. Even reli- 
gion has gradually developed new ideas in the consciousness of 
the world. A few centuries ago it was not thought to be wrong 
to persecute and punish for a difference of religious belief; but 
gradually the great idea of religious toleration has dawned upon 
the human soul, and the broad spirit of Christian fellowship en- 
folds in its embrace all who follow the teachings of the Master. 

Ideas Indicate an Objective Reality. — The gradual devel- 
opment of ideas and opinions in the human mind indicates some 
corresponding objective reality. The cognitions of the qual- 
ities of color and sound have their counterparts in the objects of 
the natural world. The ideas and truths of mathematics are but 
conceptions of real relations of form and number. The great 
conceptions of Space, Time, Cause, the True, the Beautiful, and the 
Good, have their objective realities in the universe around us. So 
the recognition of the rights of man, of the inalienable right of free- 
dom, of liberty of conscience, etc., are all the cognition of great 



54 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ideas or truths that no enlightened thought would now attempt 
to question or deny. The law is, that the gradual and universal 
development of some definite and intelligent belief indicates the 
actual existence of that which is believed. 

Out- Religions Beliefs. — This gradual development of ideas 
and thoughts in the human consciousness has a deep significance 
in respect to religious faith. The universal belief in Immortality 
and God, it would seem, must be accompanied by the correlative 
fact of their actual existence. The idea of God in the soul attests 
the idea of God in the universe. Influences have been at work 
through the ages to develop more and more clearly the grand 
ideas of God and Immortality ; and these influences must have 
come from and are a proof of an actuality of existence. 
Whether the idea of God was put into the mind by the Creator 
at the beginning, or has dawned slowly in the consciousness by 
the process of evolution, its present appearance there indicates 
an actual correlative existence apart from the mind conceiving it. 
As ideas of material things in the soul attest the existence of 
material things without the soul, so must ideas of spiritual things 
indicate and attest the existence of spiritual things. The spiritual 
can impress the soul and leave its traces there as well as the 
material ; and a recognition of this principle will enable one to 
meet modern skepticism upon its own ground and defeat it with its 
own weapons. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE CULTURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

THE intimate relation of consciousness to the different facul- 
ties of the mind renders it difficult to give a discussion of its 
culture without touching upon that of the other faculties. Its 
culture in its objective phase will be discussed under Attention; 
its culture in its subjective or reflective phase is appropriately 
considered here. The development of the mind is influenced by 
both our conscious knowledge and the unconscious modifications 
of the mind ; and the natural consciousness, as we have seen, may 
be developed into the reflective consciousness. We shall there- 
fore discuss the culture of consciousness, or of the mind in rela- 
tion to consciousness, under three heads: First, the culture 
through conscious knowledge ; second, the culture through un- 
conscious modifications ; and third, the culture of the reflective 
consciousness. 

I. Culture through Conscious Knowledge. — The mind 
grows by its conscious modifications. Such modifications are its 
j)ositive knowledge, and knowledge is the food of the mind 
Knowledge excites it. to activity ; it is the stimulus of mental 
action ; and the mental powers are developed by activity. In 
knowledge the mind finds its nutriment, out of which, by assimi- 
lation, it gets its growth and development. 

Uses of Conscious Knowledge. — The first object of the 
teacher is to labor to give the mind a large share of conscious 
knowledge. The pupil should be led to acquire clear and definite 
ideas of things. Care is to be taken that the mind does not rest 
in vague and confused impressions. Observation should be clear 
and distinct, thought should be definite and complete, everything 

(55) 



56 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

that is misty or nebulous should be removed from the pupil's 
mental products; whatever he knows he should know with pre- 
cision and thoroughness. A thing is not to be regarded as known 
until it is fully and completely developed in consciousness. 

Knoirledge Conscious by Attention. — Knowledge is made 
conscious by continuance of attention. An inattentive view of 
any object gives one a vague idea of it, but fails to afford a dis- 
tinct and definite conception of the object. One or two points 
may be noticed, but the most of the parts of the object remain 
unnoticed, and have not affected us consciously. If, however, we 
look at the object with attention, every part of it makes a distinct 
impression on the mind, and a knowledge of the object and its 
parts becomes a matter of consciousness. We should, therefore, 
lead the pupil to attend closely to that which is presented to his 
mind, in order that the various impressions on the senses may 
emerge in consciousness and become a distinct cognition. The 
acquisition of such a habit of attention is one of the most import- 
ant elements of education. 

JK/notvledge Conscious by Analysis. — The analytic consid- 
eration of things aids in the production of conscious knowledge. 
An object seen as a whole leaves a certain impression on the 
mind : but though we may be conscious of its general appear- 
ance, we cannot bring its several parts distinctly into conscious- 
ness. The impression made by these parts has never risen into 
consciousness, and thus cannot be called up into consciousness. 
If, however, we analyze the object into its parts, we shall thus 
gain a distinct idea of these parts, and they, as well as the object 
itself, will be a possession of conscious knowledge. 'We shall thus 
avoid the vague and confused notions we often have of objects, 
and make our ideas of them clear, definite, and precise. Analysis 
is thus one of the conditions of making impressions appear in 
consciousness, and thus of the production of distinct and definite 
ideas of things. 

Knowledge Conscious by Repetition. — Impressions upon 
the mind may be made to arise in consciousness by repetition. A 



THE CULTURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. '57 

slight impression may not arise into consciousness at all; let the 
impression be repeated several times, and it will make its appear- 
ance in consciousness in the form of a distinct sensation or cog- 
nition. Thus, a person may speak to me when I am absorbed in 
some object of thought, and I may not hear him; but if the same 
words are repeated several times, even in the same tone, I Avill 
become conscious of them. Repetition is thus a condition for an 
unconscious impression to rise into consciousness. Repetition ; • 
also a condition for the ready recall or reproduction of an idea in 
consciousness. Many ideas rise into consciousness, and then sink 
back into unconsciousness, and we are unable to call them up 
again. If the impression is repeated several times, the modifica- 
tion of mind which occurs causes the idea to rise spontaneously 
into consciousness, or enables us to recall it readily at our will. 
Repetition is, therefore, one of the important means of furnishing 
the mind with conscious knowledge. 

Knowledge Conscious by Interest. — We may bring the 
unconscious into consciousness by arousing the interest of the 
mind. We grasp most clearly, and remember best, those things 
in which we feel the deepest interest, or which excite the mind the 
most. A thousand things impress the senses daily, which we are 
neither conscious of at the time nor remember afterwards. Many 
things we hear leave no impression on consciousness, but seem to 
" go in at one ear and out at the other." The things we do re- 
member are usually those in which we felt the deepest interest. 
Thus, a man on trial for his life will remember with minuteness 
the evidence, appearance. of the witnesses, etc. 

Conscious by Subsequent Interest. — Even a subsequent 
interest in unconscious mental impressions will seem to enable us 
to revive them. Two men may be talking in a room in which I 
am engaged, and I hear and remember nothing that was said. 
Their conversation may have made some impression on the brain, 
but not enough to occasion the formation of an idea which appears 
in consciousness. Subsequently there is a lawsuit, in which my 
evidence in the matter is of value, and I endeavor to recall what 
3* 



58' MENTAL SCIENCE. ' 

was said, and can, by effort, bring some things up into conscious- 
ness. My interest in the subject of conversation has caused an 
otherwise unconscious idea to rise into consciousness. Thus inter- 
est may take the place of repetition, and even do what repetition 
could not have done. 

Increase Conscious Knowledge. — The teacher should labor 
to increase the conscious knowledge of the pupil. By conscious 
knowledge is meant that which we may at any time bring before 
consciousness. In a certain sense, nearly all of our knowledge is 
potential rather than actual. We can be conscious of certain 
ideas if we will to be, but actually we are conscious only of 
the idea or ideas which are at the present moment before the 
mind. Ideas rise up out of unconsciousness, and sink back again 
into unconsciousness ; and in a certain sense we know only that 
of which we are at any time conscious. The conscious part of 
our mind may be compared to that part of a wheel which touches 
a tangent, while the rest of the wheel may represent the uncon- 
scious part. Every part of the circumference of the wheel may 
be made to touch the tangent, but only one part ever does touch 
it at any one time. Mental culture endeavors to enlarge this 
knowledge that it may become conscious ; and also to facilitate the 
calling of the unconscious into consciousness. Carrying out the 
figure, we may say it aims to increase the size of the wheel, and 
also to facilitate its revolution at the command of the will. 

II. Culture through Unconscious Knowledge. — The 
mind may be cultivated also through its unconscious modifica- 
tions, which for convenience we may call its unconscious knowl- 
edge. The mind is affected and moulded by impressions that do 
not rise into consciousness. These unconscious influences are of 
vast importance in education, and should not be overlooked by 
the teacher and educator. A few remarks will be presented to 
indicate the value and use of this unconscious knowledge. 

The Unconscious in Percejjfion. — And first we remark that 
much of our knowledge, perhaps the most of it acquired in early 
life, is attained unconsciously. It is in this way that the child 



THE CULTURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 59 

iearns the fundamental facts of the world and of life. Our lives 
are object lessons, and the larger part of what we learn comes to 
the mind, we know not how or when. We see the relation of 
objects in nature, and though we kuow nothing of the laws of 
perspective, yet when we look at a picture in which these laws 
are violated we immediately detect the error. We learn music 
and dancing in an unconscious way with ease ; if we should 
attempt to learn each note and step by rule, the task would be 
much more difficult. The child is unconscious of the way in 
which it learns to walk and talk, but it learns these arts much 
faster than if it could comprehend the rules and directions for 
the different acts. 

The Unconscious in Memory. — The unconscious modifica- 
tions of the mind may be of value in memory. I may not be 
able to recall an object or a fact, and yet be able to recognize them 
if they are again brought before my mind. I may know a person 
so that I could recognize him if I met him, and yet be entirely un- 
able to describe him. We may be unable to tell whether a friend 
has black hair or brown hair, or whether the eyes are blue or 
gray ; and yet our knowledge of his appearance is a real, practical 
knowledge to us, and we would immediately know it if any change 
had taken place in his looks. We meet a friend after several 
years' absence, and say, "How changed you are," but are unable 
to tell in what the change consists. It is said that a person, on 
being asked, could not tell whether his father wore a moustache. 
We have not a distinct recollection of most of the objects w r e see 
around us ; we are unable to describe the pictures in our room or 
the carpet on our floor, and yet how quickly we would notice a 
change in these objects. This unconscious knowledge is of real 
value to us, and should be taken an account of in education. 

The Unconscious in Thought. — Our unconscious knowledge 
influences and modifies our thinking. Our judgments and opin- 
io ns are modified by the unconscious modifications of our minds. 
The impressions from the circumstances and surroundings of 
early life, most of which never rise into consciousness, and which 



60 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

we inay not be able to call up into consciousness, affect our ideas 
and thoughts, and mould our opinions. Indeed, it is probable 
that the subtle and intangible influences of which we are uncon- 
scious do more to mould oar mental characteristics than those 
influences of which Ave are conscious. As the peculiarities of the 
soil give a peculiar fragrance to the rose and flavor to the grape, 
so the unseen and unfelt influences that surround us in early 
yeai s give color to our tastes and shape to our thoughts and ex- 
pressions. We may not remember one in a hundred of the refined 
sentiments we heard fall from the lips of cultured men and 
women, but they have all left an impress behind, and have 
touched our souls " to new issues." We have forgotten the inci- 
dents of the books we read, and cannot quote a dozen of their 
sentences, yet we think and write differently from what Ave should 
have done had Ave not read those Avorks. Genius is partly due to 
early influences of Avhich it is unconscious, as Avell as to natural 
gifts. These facts being admitted, the great advantage of the 
unconscious in the culture of thought will be readily appreciated. 

The Unconscious in Language. — Language is learned at 
first as an unconscious acquisition. The majority of Avords are 
acquired unconsciously. Who taught us the meaning of such 
Avords as here, now, to be, to do, beauty, virtue, etc, Ave cannot tell ; 
and yet Ave use those Avords correctly. The delicate shades of 
meaning which Ave attach to Avords Ave learn, not from the diction- 
ary or from definitions, but mainly by our reading. Our best 
lessons in grammar are learned, not consciously from the text- 
books, but unconsciously from hearing or reading good English. 
So a foreign language is much more readily learned by hearing it 
spoken, or, after one gets a slight knoAvledge of grammar and a 
brief vocabulary, by reading some book in the language, until, 
as some one says, " Ave tumble into it rather than learn it." 

The Unconscious in Opinion — Our prejudices and opinions 
are largely moulded by the unconscious modifications of our 
minds. Our estimates of persons and books are often due to im- 
pressions which Ave cannot define, and Avhich are not definitely 



THE CULTURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 61 

cognized. We meet a stranger and are attracted or repelled by 
him, we cannot tell for what reason. The title of a book often, 
by some impression it makes upon the mind, which we never put 
into a proposition, leads us to read or neglect it. A writer says 
that he refused to read " Adam Bede " because the title seemed 
flat and insipid ; and this was also the experience of the author 
of this work. Indeed, we believe that many of the opinions of 
mankind are prejudices based upon influences and impressions 
that have never risen into a definite form in the consciousness. 
The significance of these facts cannot be overestimated, and they 
deserve the serious attention of the educator and teacher. 

The Unconscious in Character. — The unconscious modifica- 
tions of the mind exercise an influence on the development of 
character. The refinement of a mother's words and manners, the 
upright life and unremembered expressions of a father, leave their 
impress upon the soul, and show themselves in our own actions 
and moral sentiment. The boy who is surrounded by vulgar 
companions may not remember a tithe of the vulgarity which he 
has seen or heard, but it has lowered his sense of refinement 
and soiled the purity of his imagination and taste. The boy or 
girl comes out of a home of culture and refinement with that 
subtle peculiarity of manner- and expression which we call good 
breeding. 

Even the physical influences that surround us in early life 
help to mould our character and change our tastes. The spirit of 
beauty steals insensibly into the soul and tunes it to heavenly 
aspirations : the grandeur of the mountains, or the sublimity of 
the wide-spreading ocean, seems to give strength to thought and 
elevation ■ to sentiment. The educator should appreciate the 
influence of these unconscious modifications upon the soul, and 
make use of them in the development of that highest product of 
education, a noble character. 

III. Culture of Philosophical Consciousness. — The nat- 
ural consciousness, as we have seen, may be developed into the 
reflective or philosophical consciousness ; and such development 



62 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

may be secured by proper culture. The time for such culture is 
not childhood or youth ; it is rather adapted to the mature mind. 
The young mind operates objectively rather than subjectively ; it 
is not until the mind begins to ripen in the process of thought 
that it begins to turn its gaze within and reflect upon the opera- 
tion of its own faculties. A few suggestions will be made in 
respect to this culture. 

Practice Reflection. — The student should accpiire the habit 
of reflection. He should be led to look in upon his own mental 
operations, and note the working of his own mind. This will be 
difficult at first, but practice will render it comparatively easy. 
He may notice the growth of an idea of perception, trace the act 
of the mind in calling up anything out of unconsciousness into 
consciousness, analyze a judgment or process of reasoning, and 
watch the coming and developing of the ideals of the imagination. 

Should be Persistent. — This attention to mental phenomena 
should be continuous and persistent. The mind should be held 
to .the contemplation of any mental phenomenon until it is dis- 
tinctly observed. This presents a difficulty, since the mental act 
or state exists but for an instant ; it comes and is 'gone, and when 
we attempt to look at it, it is not there. We can, however, prac- 
tically prolong the act or state by repeating it. What we fail to 
notice at one view we should try to notice at another view ; what 
we faintly apprehend at first sight we may fix and confirm at a 
second observation. Past experience can be brought before the 
mind in an act of memory and reviewed. There is an advantage, 
too, in this, since the interest in the idea or thought at first may 
interfere with our examination, but when brought back by the 
memory, when the curiosity is satisfied and the feelings are 
calmed, we can give more energy to the contemplation of the idea, 
or feeling itself. 

Should be Minute. — We should cultivate the power of close 
and minute observation of the acts and states of the mind. In 
the power to do this we find the difference between the peasant 
and the philosopher. All persons possess the same natural con- 



THE CULTURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 63 

sciousness which notices the broad facts of mental experience ; but 
the reflective consciousness detects many things that are not 
noticed by the ordinary natural consciousness. To cultivate this 
reflective consciousness we must learn to fix our attention upon 
the acts and states until the minute and occult phenomena are 
clearly perceived. 

Should be Comprehensive. — We should cultivate the power 
of comprehensive observation of mental phenomena. Our view 
should embrace not merely a part, but all of the mental phenom- 
ena. No partiality of taste or natural bias of the mind should 
lead us to concentrate the attention upon one class of mental phe- 
nomena, to the neglect of another class. Neither should any pre- 
conceived opinions in respect to mental phenomena make us unfair 
or partial in our examination. We want the entire truth, and 
not a mere partial or one-sided view of the facts, so that our in- 
ferences from them may be correct. 

Should Grasp Relations. — We should aim to give conscious- 
ness the power of grasping the relations of mental phenomena. 
The comparison of ideas or objects of thought and the detection 
of relations is one of the earliest activities of the mind ; and con- 
sciousness should recognize these comparisons and relations. We 
must, in consciousness, place the facts of mind side by side, and 
grasp them in their relations. Consciousness must learn to cog- 
nize the mental processes by which the mind elaborates its knowl- 
edge. The mind perceives the similar and the dissimilar, it 
judges and reasons, it classifies its knowledge, and seeks for the 
causes and laws of things, and builds up the temples of scientific 
truth. The aim of the culture of consciousness is to enable it to 
become conscious of these processes, and the relations which they 
unfold. . This is really the first great step in the culture of the 
reflective or philosophical consciousness. 

Should Grasp Latvs and Causes. — We should train the 
consciousness also to grasp the lauis and causes of mental phe- 
nomena. The mind has its laws or fixed methods of operation, as 
well as matter ; and the higher philosophical consciousness aims 



64 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

to grasp theru. There are also causes of certain mental phenom- 
ena, as well as of material phenomena, and we should endeavor 
to acquire the power of a conscious insight into these causes. We 
should endeavor to interpret the facts and phenomena presented, 
to find the underlying principle that gives form to the facts, to 
reach down to the nature or essence of things, and seek to know 
them in their ultimate principles. Here the consciousness attains 
its most perfect development, and man becomes the philosopher. 

IV. Abnormal Consciousness. — Occasionally we find an 
abnormal activity of consciousness which is both an injury to 
mental activity and a source of personal unhappiness. It is the 
duty of education to recognize and attend to these unnatural 
conditions of consciousness, and, so far as possible, to remove 
them. Dr. Porter has so clearly developed and happily expressed 
this subject that I can do no better than reproduce it in his own 
words. 

Among Children. — "The abnormal or the morbid self-con- 
sciousness is distinguished by any degree of attention to one's 
own psychical state which interferes with the normal use and 
development of the powers. Children are appointed by nature to 
an objective and, in one sense, an animal life. But, now and 
then, a child, through an unfortunate bias, or some ill-judged 
training, has learned to look inward upon itself with unnatural 
precocity. As a consequence, the subjective predominates over the 
objective, the tendency to reflect hinders the tendency to acquire, 
and that easy and spontaneous play of observation, memory, im- 
agination, wit, and invention, which is the strength and the charm 
of childhood, is excluded or hindered." 

Among Adults. — "Among adults, frequent examples occur 
of a morbid or unnatural attention to the inner life. Hypochon- 
driacs, who are haunted by disturbing sensations which proceed 
from bodily disease, till their attention is so absorbed in watching 
these sensations that it cannot respond to the objects that are fitted 
to amuse and incite to action, furnish one example. Men who 
have inherited or indulged a sensitive nature till it has become 



THE CULTUKE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 65 

then- tyrant, who watch their feelings with a selfish exclusiveness 
or who pamper them Avith a dainty fastidiousness, like Rousseau, 
may become half insane through brooding over their own exag- 
gerated sufferings and wrongs." 

Self- Consciousness. — "Another type of the abnormal con- 
sciousness is that which results from an egoistic thoughtfulness 
of one's appearance, manners, words, looks, actions, or achieve- 
ments, which shows itself in the countless forms of affectation that 
are displayed in manners, art, or literature. So common has this 
become in the artificial society of modern times, that it has given 
a new sense to the words conscious and consciousness, with and 
without self as a prefix." To be conscious of one's self is to de- 
stroy that simplicity and naturalness of character and behavior 
which is attractive and admirable. 

Cure of Abnormal Consciousness. — Much can be done b}- 
proper culture to cure the abnormal action of consciousness. The 
general suggestion is to interest the mind in things without itself. 
The attention should be led from the subjective to the objective. 
For this purpose the study of natural science, visiting objects of 
interest, a trip to a foreign country, will be of value. Anything 
that keeps the mind away from itself, and occupies it with exter- 
nal objects, will aid in curing this unnatural condition. Such 
culture, too, is of great importance ; many a case of permanent 
melancholy, or even insanity, might have been prevented by 
careful and judicious treatment. The tender and thoughtful com- 
panion of Cowper, by her care and the gentle occupations in 
which she led him to engage, saved his mind from insanity, and 
thus gave us several of those exquisite productions of his rare 
poetical genius. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE NATURE OF ATTENTION. 

ATTENTION is the power of directing the mind to one ob- 
ject of thought to the exclusion of all others. It is the 
power of selecting one of several objects, and concentrating the 
mental energies upon it. The term is derived from ad, to, and 
tench, I bend, meaning a bending to or towards, and was suggested 
probably by the attitude of the body in an act of close attention 
to an external object. 

Illustration. — Thus, suppose I am standing at the window with 
my eyes open ; a hundred objects are mirrored upon the retina ; 
I select one of these objects and fix my mind upon it, to the ex- 
clusion of all others ; this is an act of attention. I sit in the 
porch on a summer evening ; a score of sounds are blending in 
the chambers of my ear ; I have a general impression of them all 
— perhaps a distinct idea of none. I select one or more from the 
collection, and fix my thoughts upon these, withdrawing my mind 
from the others. This is also an act of attention. 

Subjective and Objective. — Attention may operate either 
objectively or subjectively. Thus we may fix our attention on an 
external object, as a bird or a tree, or upon any part or quality 
of the object, as the form or color. In this case the attention 
operates objectively. We may also fix our attention upon some 
operation or state of the mind, as a sensation, an emotion, or a 
volition, or upon any product of the mind, as an idea or a 
thought. This is the subjective phase of attention. In this latter 
form, attention is very nearly identical with what Locke calls Re- 
flection. 

Relation to Consciousness. — Attention appears to be closely 

(66) 



THE NATUEE OF ATTENTION". 67 

related to consciousness. It seems to be a directing of conscious- 
ness to the acts and states of the mind. Dr. Wayland describes 
it as a sort of voluntary consciousness, a condition of the mind 
in which consciousness is excited and directed by an act of the 
will. This applies especially to the subjective phase of its opera- 
tions. 

Attention and consciousness are not, however, identical. . At- 
tention is consciousness and something more ; it is consciousness 
voluntarily applied to some determined object ; it is a sort of 
concentrated consciousness. Hamilton says : " Consciousness may 
be compared to a telescope ; Attention is the pulling out and 
pressing in of the tubes in accommodating the focus to the eye." 

Positive and Negative. — An act of attention involves both a 
positive and negative operation of the mind. It consists in turn- 
ing away from some things and in turning toward other things. 
The first act consists in excluding and refusing to consider some 
objects, — a negative process ; the second act consists in a volun- 
tary effort to consider others, — a positive process. Negatively, we 
arrest or detain certain powers in their operations ; positively, we 
direct or command other powers to put forth their operations. 
The negative element has been compared to the detent in machin- 
ery, which checks the wheels in rapid motion and gives opportunity 
for any desired change. The positive action may be compared to 
putting the belt upon the wheel to be turned, thus concentrating 
the power of the machinery upon it. 

The principal element, however, is the positive element. The 
mental effort is not so much to withdraw the mind from the 
many, as to concentrate it upon the few or the one. We make our 
choice of some one of the various objects claiming our attention, 
and fix the mind upon it, and the others by necessity retire from 
our thoughts. 

Relation to the Will. — Attention is partly an operation of 
the will. It is an intentional mental effort, a designed directing 
of the mind to some object of thought, a voluntary concentration 
of consciousness. But though intimately related to the will, it is 



68 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

not identical with it. All will-power is not attention. It ia 
merely the will-effort that directs and concentrates the mental 
activity, or that voluntarily observes any faculty in its action. 

Not Absolute Control. — Attention is not under the absolute 
control of the will. We are sometimes determined to an act of 
attention independently of the free volitions of the will. When 
absorbed in thought or study, a person may speak to us, or a 
clock may strike, without our being conscious of the sound ; but 
it is impossible to remain in this state of unconsciousness inten- 
tionally, and by a direct effort of the will. We cannot deter- 
minedly refuse to hear by voluntarily withholding our attention ; 
and we cannot open our eyes, and by an act of will arrest our 
minds from all perceptions of sight. We may close our eyes or 
stop our ears ; but cannot-, with our organs unobstructed, wholly 
refuse to see and hear. 

Involuntary Attention. — Sometimes attention seems to act 
independently of the will. The mind is attracted by something 
without instead of heing urged by something within. We often 
find ourselves looking, listening, thinking, etc., without any con- 
scious effort on our part, and without seeming to have willed it. 
We sit down to read, and in a few moments find ourselves dream- 
ing, or pursuing a rambling train of thought, unwilled and un- 
wished. We walk out in the spring-time and find our minds 
attracted by a beautiful flower, the song of a bird, or the rippling 
of a rivulet, without any conscious effort of our own. Such facts, 
common to the experience of all, prove that the attention often 
acts independently of our free volition. 

Three Degrees.— -In view of these considerations, Sir Wm. 
Hamilton holds that attention is of three degrees or kinds. The 
first is a mere vital or irresistible act ; the second is an act deter- 
mined by desire, which, though voluntary, may be resisted ; the 
third is an act determined by deliberate volition. 

Not a Faculty. — Attention is not regarded as a distinct faculty 
of the mind. It is not a distinct form of mental activity, but is 
involved in and underlies the activity of all the faculties. It is 



THE NATUKE OF ATTENTION". 69 

subsidiary to the different faculties, acts with, them and in them, 
seeming to constitute an essential part of each mental activity. 
The voluntary operation of any of the mental powers, as percep- 
tion, memory, etc., carries with it an act of attention. 

Again, attention is not a power of knowing, but of directing 
that which may know. Of itself it originates nothing, teaches 
nothing, puts us in possession of no new ideas or truths, has no 
distinct field or province of its own. Yet without it the other 
faculties would be of little use to us. Attention doubles the 
efficiency of these faculties, giving them a power of which they 
would otherwise be destitute. 

Two Questions in Respect to Attention. 

There are two interesting questions discussed by writers on men- 
tal philosophy which are entitled to a brief consideration. The 
first of these is, — Can we do anything without attention ? The 
second is, — Can we attend to more than one thing at the same time ? 

I. Can we do Anything without Attention? — The first 
question is, can we do anything without attention? We have 
learned to do many things with great facility, so that they often 
take place when our minds seem to be attending to something 
else. Do they really take place without any degree of attention, 
or is the attention so slight that we do not notice it ? Thus, I sit 
at a piano running over some familiar piece of music, and at the 
same time am engaged in conversation with a friend. My fingers 
seem to wander among the keys ad libitum; does each note or 
each movement of the fingers require an act of attention ? Or, 
if the piece is a difficult one, and I am giving general attention 
to it, is there a special act of attention in producing each note ? 

Actions Mechanical. — Upon this question two distinctly 
opposite views have been obtained. Dr. Reid and others, especially 
students of physiology, hold that these and many similar acts are 
automatic and mechanical, and do not involve any mental activity, 
and thus no attention. The mind, they hold, " forms the general 
purpose to execute the given piece, but the particular movements 



70 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

and muscular contractions requisite to produce the individual 
notes are, for the most part, involuntary." The motions follow 
one another as a matter of habit, and do not require a special 
volition or act of attention. As a proof of their position they 
cite the fact that we have no recollection of any acts of attention. 

Actions not Mechanical. — Mr. Stewart and some other writ- 
ers take the other side of this question, holding that such actions, 
however rapid, do involve some mental activity, and consequently 
some attention. The attention and the volition, they say, are 
instantaneous, and make so slight an impression upon the mind 
that there is no recollection of it afterwards. The fact that we 
do not recollect the volitions is no proof that we did not exercise 
them. A piece of music can be played so slowly that we can 
observe the special act of attention and volition to each note and 
recall them afterwards. " The difference of the two cases," it is 
claimed, "lies in the rapidity of the movement, and not in the 
nature of the operation." 

Objection and Reply. — The objection offered to this view is 
that it requires too great rapidity of mental action. Take a pub- 
lic speaker for instance, who speaks from one to two hundred 
words in a minute ; each word consists of four or five elementary 
sounds, and each elementary sound requires several muscular 
contractions. To attend to each would require two or three 
thousand acts of attention in a minute. Is it possible for the 
mind to act with such rapidity ? This objection, however, carries 
with it its own answer : for if the body can act with such rapidity, 
it is surely not impossible for the mind to do so. 

Actions not Automatic. — To illustrate the rapidity of actions 
not automatic, but which require constant attention, Mr. Stewart 
cites the case of the equilibrist, who, while balancing himself on 
a slack-rope, balances a number of balls in various ways. Here 
the position changes every instant, and in order to keep himself 
and the objects from falling, every change must be noticed and 
the position adjusted accordingly. These movements cannot be 
the result of an inseparable association of ideas, as in piano-play- 



THE NATURE OF ATTENTION. 71 

ing, for they do not follow any regular order, and could not, if 
tried thousands of times. It is evident that in this case the per- 
former must pay close attention to every action ; for if the mind 
be diverted for a moment, the actor or his balls will fall. 

The Question Decided. — It is not easy to decide this question, 
though I believe there is truth on both sides of it. It must be 
admitted that many actions are automatic and mechanical. There 
is a tendency for muscular movements, once associated, to be re- 
peated in the order of association. Many of the movements in 
speaking, walking, piano-playing, etc., are no doubt purely me- 
chanical. It can hardly be supposed that each muscular contrac- 
tion of the vocal organs, when we talk, receives a special act of 
attention. The doctrine of reflex nervous action leads to the 
same conclusion. It must also be admitted that there are mental 
acts which make so little impression upon consciousness that they 
are not subsequently remembered, and that some actions which 
seem to be automatic do really require an act of attention. 

Hamilton's J3xplanati®n. — Sir William Hamilton presents 
an interesting explanation of the subject by the principle of latent 
agencies — that is, by mental operations of which we are uncon- 
scious. In respect to our acquired habits and dexterities, as 
speaking, playing, etc., he holds that many of the mental activities 
do .not rise into consciousness. He concedes to the mind a con- 
scious volition over the series, but denies to it a conscious and 
deliberate volition in regard to each separate movement in the 
series which it determines. At first and before the habit is 
acquired, every act is slow, and we are conscious of each mental 
action ; but at length the acts become secure and precise, the speed 
increases, the individual acts drop, one by one, out of conscious- 
ness, as we lose the leaves in retiring from a tree ; and at last we 
are aware only of the general state which results from these un- 
conscious operations. 

II. Number of Objects op Attention. — The second ques- 
tion is, can the mind attend to more than one object at the same 
time? Thus, when I am playing the piano and, at the same time, 



72 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

am engaged in conversation, do I attend to the playing and the 
talking at the same time, or does the mind pass from one to the 
other? And so when the equilibrist balances himself and a 
number of objects on different parts of his bod) r , does he attend 
to more than one of these at any particular instant of time ? 

Negative View. — Several philosophers answer this question in 
the negative. Dr. Brown holds that the mind cannot exist, a,t 
the same moment, in two different states — that is, in two states in 
either of which it can exist separately. He would have us be- 
lieve that we cannot feel the sensations of fragrance and cold at 
the same time. The same doctrine is taught by Locke, at least 
by inference, in his inquiry whether the mind can have " different, 
nay inconsistent and opposite (as those of white and black must 
be) modifications at the same time." 

Steivart's View. — Stewart distinctly teaches that we cannot 
attend to more than one object of thought at the same time. He 
says the mind passes with such rapidity from one object to another 
that it is unconscious of the transition, and seems to be attending 
to both objects at once. Thus in the case of vision, only one part 
of an object is at any one instant in the direct line of vision ; but 
the eye passes so rapidly from point to point that we seem to see 
the entire surface at a glance. So in viewing a mathematical 
figure of many sides, we view each side by a separate act of atten- 
tion, till Ave have passed around the entire outline. He says there 
is a minimum visible, which is the smallest extension of color or 
shaded light by which the eye can be affected. He speaks also 
of a minimum audible in respect to hearing. 

In Comparing Objects. — In comparing two objects, as A and B, 
it is held that the mind does not think of both objects at once ; 
that while I am thinking of A I have no thought of B, and Avhile 
thinking of B I have no thought of A. In an act of comparison, 
the mind passes rapidly from one object to the other ; so rapidly 
that the same effect is produced as if both objects were actually 
before the mind at the same moment. 

Affirmative View. — On the contrary, it is held by able 



THE NATUKE OF ATTENTION. 73 

thinkers, that we can attend to more than one thing at a time. 
Leibnitz, in answer to Locke's inquiry Avhether the mind can 
have inconsistent and opposite modifications at the same moment, 
holds that it can. Sir William Hamilton takes the same view. 
This view seems to be the correct one, as will appear from several 
considerations. 

Consciousness Affirms It. — An appeal to consciousness seems to 
affirm this view. When I look at a small object, as a pin, it 
surely seems that I can see the head and shaft at the same iden- 
tical moment. So, in looking at my hand, I feel sure that I can 
see two or more of my fingers, or a finger and a thumb, at the 
same time. So when I listen to a duet, or even a four-part har- 
mony, I am conscious that I hear the tones blended, and not first 
one and then another. Indeed, could I have the sense of har- 
mony if I did not hear the tones at the same instant ? I am 
conscious, also, as I sit in a room, that I can know, at any given 
instant, that there are several persons in the room with me ; and 
that when I look out of the window I can see more than one sin- 
gle object. 

Negative View Absurd. — The negative view seems absurd in 
that it assumes too much. If I can see or hear only one thing at 
a time, what and how large is that one thing ? If I cannot see 
or hear two words at a time, then I cannot see or hear one word, 
for one word is made up of several letters or sounds. It follows, 
also, that I cannot see the whole of a letter, since a letter is made 
up of parts ! Again, when I look out on a wide-spreading land- 
scape, if I can see only the minimum visible, how long will it take 
me to see the entire landscape, which is so large as to contain the 
minimum visible a countless number of times ? 

In Comparing Objects. — This view is necessary in order to 
explain the comparison of objects. An act of comparison, as 
Hamilton remarks, supposes that we are able to comprehend, in 
one individual consciousness, the different objects compared. 
Were I conscious of only one object at a time, I could never 
bring them into relation ; for when I was conscious of A I would 
4 



74 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

not be conscious of B, and when conscious of B I would be un- 
conscious of A. Thus no judgments could be formed, since the 
subject and predicate could not be united in thought; and thought 
and language would be impossible. 

Number of Objects. — Admitting that the mind can attend to 
more than one object at a time, the question arises, — how many 
objects can it embrace at once ? In respect to this question, some 
writers say that the mind can have a distinct notion of four 
objects, and others of six objects. Sir William Hamilton limits 
the number to six, and says it may be illustrated by throwing a 
number of marbles upon the floor, and grouping them in twos, in 
threes, in fours, etc. 

Number not Definite. — It is to be doubted, however, whether 
the number of objects which can be embraced in a single act of 
attention can be definitely determined. Some minds will grasp 
more and some less ; and the grasp of the mind in this respect is 
largely due to practice and cultivation. Besides, too, it will 
depend somewhat upon the size of the objects. It should also be 
remarked that clearness of cognition will be at its maximum 
when the mind is concentrated on a single object : that is, the 
greater the number of objects among which the attention is dis- 
tributed, the feebler and less distinct will be its cognizance of 
each. The law is that distinctness of cognition is inversely pro- 
portional to the number of objects to which the mind attends. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE CULTURE OP ATTENTION. 

HAVING explained the general nature of the power of at- 
tention, we now proceed to the discussion of the methods 
of its cultivation. We shall treat the subject under three gen- 
eral heads ; the importance of habits of attention, the methods 
of cultivating attention, and the way to secure the attention of 
pupils. 

I. Importance of Habits of Attention. — The importance 
of habits of attention cannot be overrated. The power of con- 
trolling one's own mental faculties, of directing them at will into 
whatever channel the occasion may demand, of excluding from 
the mind all irrelevant ideas, and concentrating the mind on the 
one object of thought, is a power of the highest value. It is in 
this that we find the principal difference between one mind and 
another in the realm of thought and knowledge. Mental power 
is, to a great extent, the power of attention. One of the principal 
elements of genius is strength of will to control the mind and 
command the mental energies. 

To all the Faculties. — : Attention is of great value to all the 
faculties. It is involved in and inseparably connected with the 
exercise of these faculties, giving them their direction and in- 
creasing their power. It conditions their activity, and is a meas- 
ure of their strength and attainments. Its value in relation to 
each one of the different faculties will be briefly noticed. 

To Perception. — The power of perception is mainly due to 
the power of attention. In an act of perception we need not only 
the open senses, but also the attentive mind. Mere gazing is not 
sufficient ; we need the concentration of the mind in order to per- 
ceive. Too many persons have eyes and see not, ears and hear 

(75) 



76 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

not, fingers that touch and yet communicate no knowledge. A 
large share of the perception of the world is inattentive and care- 
less. 

Attention, in relation to perception, is like a microscope to the 
eye. I look at a flower and perceive many things concerning it ; 
I place a microscope to my eye, and thus see points of interest I 
never dreamed of before. So attention seems to concentrate the 
rays of perceptive power, revealing thereby that which was pre- 
viously unperceived. In its relation to perception, attention may 
be called a mental microscope. 

To Memory. — Attention gives power to the memory. It 
gives clearness of conception, which is a condition of remember- 
ing. That which the mind has clearly apprehended, which it has 
carefully discriminated from other things, it takes firm hold of, 
and thus retains it in its mental grasp. Continuous attention 
also enables us to fix the idea, to give permanence to the impres- 
sion. It acts like a kind of die which stamps the picture upon the 
tablet of memory. Without it, the greater part of what we hear 
or see would fade from the mind, as a shadow flits across the sum- 
mer landscape. 

Value to Thottght. — Attention is to a very great extent the 
source of thought- power. Attention is mental concentration, and 
there can be no profound thinking without mental concentration. 
Unless the mental energies are concentrated, the mind indulges in 
rambling thought, goes out " wool-gathering," and returns empty- 
handed. To think closely and effectively, we must possess the 
power of directing the mind toward and holding it upon a subject 
with persistent energy. 

Gives Penetrating Power. — Attention gives penetrating power 
to the mind ; it is a kind of mental gimlet by which we bore our 
way into a hard problem or penetrate any subject difficult to 
investigate. Attention may also be compared to a sun-glass. I 
hold my hand or a piece of paper before a window, and the soft 
rays of the sunlight fall upon it with a pleasant glow and warmth. 
I place a sun-glass between my hand and the sun, and gather the 



THE CULTURE OF ATTENTION. 77 

rays into a focus so that I could burn a hole through an inch 
board. So attention seems to collect the scattered rays of thought 
into a focus, enabling one to penetrate the hardest subject of in- 
vestigation. 

Power of Concentration. — The concentration of the mind in at- 
tention is like the massing of troops in a battle. A fortification 
is stormed and taken by the concentration of a battalion. Every 
hard problem is a fortress to be captured, and we must unite our 
mental forces to capture it. Attention enables us to collect and 
hurl our whole mental force against the citadels of truth, and by 
persevering effort, carry them, as it were, by storm. Attention 
may be regarded as the commander-in-chief of our mental powers. 
If we wish to conquer truth, to capture and hold new territory, or 
to occupy and appropriate that which is already taken, we must 
concentrate our mental forces, and, like, a successful general, de- 
termine to fight it out on that line. 

Element of Thought-Power. — Attention is thus one of the prin- 
cipal elements of thought-power. It has been defined by some 
writers as "force of intellect." Minds differ, perhaps, more in 
this quality than in any of the faculties. It is to this power, 
more than to any other, that the highest attainments in science 
and art are due. Newton attributed his success to the power of 
attention. Being asked one day how he made his great discovery 
of the law of gravitation, he replied, " By incessantly thinking 
about it." 

Element of Genius. — Attention is one of the principal ele- 
ments of genius. This is the expressed opinion of a large num- 
ber of eminent scholars and thinkers. Sir William Hamilton 
says, " Genius is a higher capacity of attention." Helvetius de- 
fines geaius as "nothing but continued attention." Buffon says, 
" Genius is only a protracted patience." Cuvier remarks, " In the 
exact sciences, at least, it is the patience of a sound intellect, 
when invincible, which constitutes genius." Lord Chesterfield 
observes that " the power of applying our attention, steady and 
undissipated, to a single object, .is the sure mark of superior 
genius." 



78 " MENTAL SCIENCE. 

II. The Cultivation op Attention. — Having discussed the 
nature and importance of attention, we shall now consider the 
various ways in which it may be cultivated. The importance of 
this discussion is evident from the importance of the power of at- 
tention. 

By Evcercise. — The power of attention is cultivated by exer- 
cise. Exercise is the great law of culture, either in body or in 
mind. The arm grows strong by exercise and becomes weak 
from disuse; so the poAver of attention will be developed by 
regular and judicious action, and will be weakened by careless 
and heedless mental activity. To cultivate the power of atten- 
tion, therefore, we must give it judicious and habitual exercise. 
As the result of exercise, Caesar could write one dispatch and 
at the same time dictate four others, or he could dictate seven. 
Philidor, the great chess-player, could direct three games at the 
same time. I knew a lady who in a sewing circle would at the 
same time sew, tell funny stories, and dictate two or three pieces 
to different copyists, for the paper of a literary society. 

Practice Concentration. — To cultivate attention we should 
practice the concentration of the mind upon whatever we may be 
doing. We should never do anything without attention; nor 
should we usually divide the attention between several objects of 
thought. We should not allow the mind to wander, to flit about 
from one object to another like a butterfly flitting from flower to 
flower. Whatever we undertake to do, we should do with a will ; 
we should concentrate the entire mental energies upon it until 
the work is completed. It is in this way that we may cultivate 
habits of attention. 

In Heading. — We should always read with attention. Glanc- 
ing hastily and carelessly over books or newspapers tends to 
weaken the powers of attention. Novel-reading, as often prac- 
tised by young people, is especially injurious in this respect. 
Heading for the excitement of the story or merely to see how it 
terminates, without the object of relating or remembering the 
events, has a pernicious influence on the habit of attention. Every 



THE CULTUKE OF ATTENTION. 79 

young person should be careful to acquire the habit of reading 
with attention. 

In Study. — We should study with attention. Pupils who 
repeat the words of the book while their thoughts are upon some- 
thing else, not only require much longer time to study their les- 
sons, but also injure their powers of attention. An hour or two 
of close application will accomplish more than many hours of 
desultory study. In learning a lesson, it is not how long we 
study, but how hard we study. Teachers should be careful to 
see that their pupils acquire the habit of studying with attention. 

In Mathematics. — The study of mathematics is especially 
adapted to cultivate habits of attention. These studies require 
close and concentrated thought, and thus lead to a habit of fixed 
attention. In solving a problem, we must concentrate the mind 
upon it, and we thus acquire the power of mental concentration. 
Mental arithmetic is especially valuable in this respect . it is a 
sort of mental whetstone, sharpening the mind and giving it the 
power of penetrating and unfolding the complicated conditions 
that meet us in the problems of science and life. Among the 
school studies, mathematics ranks first for the training of the 
power of attention. 

Practical Exercises. — A teacher of^ young pupils may employ 
various exercises to cultivate their attention. He niay have 
them look at some object for a feAV moments, as a flower or a fly, 
and then require them to describe it. He may read sentences, 
short at first and then longer, and have pupils reproduce them 
orally or in writing. He may read long combinations of. small 
numbers in addition and subtraction, and have the pupils repeat 
them and perform the operations. 

III. Securing Attention of Pupils. — A teacher must learn 
to secure the attention of his pupils. No high success in the art 
of teaching is possible without it. When every mind is intent 
upon what the teacher is explaining, it will be understood and 
remembered. When the minds of the pupils are inattentive and 
wandering, no permanent impression will be made; the words 



80 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

will, as it were, pass in at one ear and out at the other. Let it 
be remembered, too, that when a teacher fails to secure the atten 
tion of his pupils, he fails in his vocation. 

Manner of Teaching. — A teacher can secure the attention 
of his pupils by his manner of teaching. A few suggestions on 
this subject will be of practical value. 

1. A teacher should be earnest in his work. A spirit of earnest- 
ness on the part of the teacher will kindle a flame of interest in 
the heart of the pupil ; and interest is the mother of attention. 
A teacher who shows no earnestness in communicating knowledge 
can expect none on the part of his pupils in acquiring knowledge. 

2. A teacher should have a clear view of his subject. Clearness 
of conception leads to clearness of presentation ; and clearness of 
expression is a condition of attention. A hesitating and obscure 
statement wearies the mind and dissipates the attention. It 
needs the clear sunlight of truth, from the teacher's mind to 
illumine and attract the mind of the pupil. 

3. A teacher should not speak too fast. Rapidity of utterance 
distracts the attention. The mind, unable to follow the teacher, 
loses the relation of facts and thus becomes confused and wan- 
ders away from what is being presented. This caution is espec- 
ially important, since rapill talking is a common fault of teachers. 

4. A teacher s voice should be properly modulated. The voice is 
the open sesame of the soul ; a sweetly-toned voice charms the ear 
and wins the attention. A teacher should speak with natural and 
artistic modulation. He should not speak too low, for that will 
require too much of an effort to listen ; nor too loud, for that 
confuses the mind and distracts the attention. 

5. A teacher's position before his class should, as a rule, be a 
standing one. In this position a teacher naturally manifests more 
animation and interest in the subject. His attitude and gestures 
will attract the eye and do much to secure attention. Besides, 
he has a better command of his pupils and can check the tendency 
to a wandering mind. If a teacher who is seated rises before his 
class, he will find that he will instantly recall all wandering 
thoughts, and fix their minds on the subject. 



THE CULTURE OF ATTENTION. 81 

6. A teacher should be interested in his instruction. This is the 
sine qua non of attention. Interest begets interest ; the flame of 
interest in the teacher's mind will kindle a flame of interest in 
the pupil's minds. Attention cannot be compelled, it must be 
enticed ; and the warmth and glow of the teacher's heart casts a 
glow of interest around a subject that makes it attractive to the 
pupil, and thus secures his attention. 

3£ethod of Teaching. — The teacher may do much to secure 
the attention of his pupils by his method of teaching. A few 
suggestions on this point will be of interest. 

1. The teacher should, so far as possible, teach without the text- 
booh. A book in the teacher's hand often seems to build a par- 
tition wall between the miuds of the teacher and pupil. The 
constant reference to the book breaks the spirit of interest that 
should flow from one mind to another. Teaching without a book 
also inspires confidence in the teacher's ability, which is not an 
unimportant condition of attention. 

2. The teacher should assign topics miscellaneously. If the pupils 
know the order of the topics or questions, they naturally allow 
the attention to wander so long as there is no danger of a question 
coming to them. When they understand that a question may 
fall anywhere, they keep wide awake, so as to be ready for it 
when it comes. 

3. A teacher should, so far as possible, use the concrete method. 
This is especially necessary with young pupils. The mind follows 
the eye ; and the attention is caught through the senses. What 
is seen is much more attractive than what is only heard or thought. 
Abstract subjects, even with older pupils, excite more interest 
when illustrations put them more clearly before the mind. 

4. The teacher should vary his methods of teaching. Variety is 
" the spice of life " in the school-room as well as outside of it. 
The routine method soon loses its interest, and the mind becomes 
dull and weary. Vary the method and the mind is aroused with 
the novelty and the attention led captive at will. 

5. The teacher should not talk too much. Too much talking 



82 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

wearies the mind and dissipates the attention. There should be 
frequent questions to awaken thought and allow the pupil to de- 
velop knoAvledge for himself. Such an exercise will do more to 
attract and hold the attention than the most eloquent discussions 
of the teacher. Anything that arouses mental activity will secure 
attention. 

6. The teacher should often use the written method of recitation. 
In a large class, when the subjects are topical, so few can be called 
on that the attention of those not reciting naturally wanders. In 
such cases, the written recitation can be associated with the oral 
one, thus holding the attention of every pupil. 

Extent of Culture. — This power has been cultivated in a high 
degree by almost every one whose name is associated with the 
progress of science. Sometimes the power has existed to such an 
extent that it has almost degenerated into a disease. Cases are 
on record where persons have become so absorbed in thought as 
to be oblivious to what was taking place around them. Plato 
tells us that Socrates, when upon a military expedition, was seen 
by the Athenian army to stand for a whole day and a night, com- 
pletely engrossed in the consideration of a single subject. When 
Syracuse was stormed by the Romans, Archimedes was so com- 
pletely absorbed in the solution of a geometrical problem that he 
was first aware of the enemy by receiving his death-wound as he 
was bending over and drawing a diagram in the sand. 

Joseph Scaliger, when a Protestant student in Paris, was so en- 
grossed in the study of Homer that he became aware of the mas- 
sacre of St. Bartholomew, and of his own escape, only on the day 
after the catastrophe. Cardan, the illustrious philosopher and 
mathematician, while upon a journey, became so lost in thought' 
that he forgot both his way and the object of his journey. To the 
question of his driver whither he should proceed, he made no 
answer, and when he came to himself at night-fall, he was surprised 
to find the carriage at a standstill directly under a gallows. The 
life of Sir Isaac Newton is full of striking incidents illustrating the 
complete concentration of his mind upon the objects of his study. 



THE INTELLECT. 



I. PERCEPTION. 

II. MEMORY. 

in. IMAGINATION. 

IV. UNDERSTANDING. 
I. Abstraction. 
II. Conception. 

III. Judgment. 

IV. Reasoning. 

V. INTUITION. 

I. Intuitions of the True. 
II. Intuitions op the Beautiful. 
III. Intuitions of the Good. 



PERCEPTION. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 

PERCEPTION is that faculty of the mind by which we gain 
a knowledge of external objects through the senses. It is 
the power of cognizing external objects and their qualities. The 
term is derived from per, through, and capio, I take, and means 
to take or receive through the senses. It is sometimes applied to 
the act and the product of perception, as well as to the power of 
perceiving. Thus we say, my perception of the object was not 
very clear, or my perception was distinctly recalled. 

The Percept. — The products of perception are properly 
called percepts. A Percept is a notion of some external object 
derived through any of the senses. In other words, a percept is 
that mental product which arises from the perception of an 
external object. A percept is, of course, an Idea, — the first of 
the two classes of intellectual products. Thus, my idea of my 
father, my mother, or of any particular object, is a percept. A 
percept is a particular idea, and embraces some particular form, 
color, size, etc. All proper nouns are the expression of percepts ; 
and, vice versa, the mental products corresponding to proper names 
are percepts. 

Ego and Non-Ego. — Perception gives us an idea of an exter- 
nal object. This object is cognized as having an existence distinct 
from ourselves. In an act of perception, therefore, consciousness 
recognizes the existence of two distinct elements ; ourselves a3 
perceiving, -and an object perceived. This distinction is universal, 

(85) 



86 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

and tacitly accepted by all men under all circumstances, arid is 
thus to be regarded as an accepted postulate of mental philosophy. 
These two elements are distinguished as the subjective and object- 
ive elements in perception, called also the me and the not-me, the 
ego and the non-ego. 

The Organism. — The mind operates in an act of perception 
through or by means of a nervous organism endowed with sensi- 
bility, and capable of feeling impressions made upon it by the 
objects of the external world. This organism has its centre or 
origin principally in the head, in a form called the Brain. Im- 
pressions made upon the sentient organism by external objects are 
conveyed to the brain, and by some action of the mind become 
knowledge. The result of an impression of an object on the 
organism is a feeling which is called a Sensation. The act of 
knowledge arising from this sensation is called a Perception. The 
sentient organism is thus a connecting link between the mind and 
the objective world. 

The Senses. — This nervous organism is arranged in different 
forms, capable of receiving different impressions. These different 
forms constitute what we call the Semes. There are five such 
distinct forms or senses, namely, Touch, Sight, Hearing, Taste, 
and Smell. Each one of these senses is the source of some par- 
ticular kind of knowledge of external objects. 

Conditions of Perception. — The conditions of an act of per- 
ception, it is thus seen, are : 1. The existence of a mind to per- 
ceive ; 2. The existence of an object to be perceived ; 3. The 
existence of a nervous organism capable of sensation ; 4. Such a 
relation of the object to the organism that the former makes an 
impression on the latter. Given these four conditions, and an act 
of perception is possible ; remove any one of them, and no act of 
perception could take place. 

Divisions for Discussion^ — Having given this general intro- 
duction to the subject of Perception, we shall now discuss it in 
detail under the following heads : 1. The Nervous Organism; 2. 
The Perceptive Process ; 3. Remarks on Perception ; 4. Percep- 
tion by the Different Senses ; 5. The Qualities of Bodies. 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 87 

I. The Nervous Organism. 

The first condition of Perception is the existence of a nervous 
organism called a Sensorium. Such an organism is the connect- 
ing link between matter and spirit ; it is the pathway that leads 
from matter to mind, the avenue by which the qualities of the 
external world can pass into or become known to consciousness. 
The Sensorium consists of the brain and spinal cord, the ganglia, 
and the nerves. The student of mental philosophy should have 
some knowledge of each of these. 

The Brain. — The brain is an egg-shaped organ situated in the 
cranium, surrounded by membranes, and consisting of two parts, 
the Cerebrum and the Cerebellum. It is composed of two kinds 
of substance ; gray matter and white matter. The white matter 
consists of nerve-fibres supported in a delicate framework of con- 
nective tissue. The gray matter, in addition, contains a number 
of nerve-cells, or ganglionic corpuscles, some of them of consider- 
able size. These cells are wholly absent in the white matter. The 
white matter seems to be associated with motion, and the gray 
matter with sensation. 

The Cerebrum. — The Cerebrum occupies the front and upper 
parts of the skull, and comprises about seven-eighths of the entire 
weight of the brain. It consists of a mass of white fibres covered 
with gray matter. It is arranged in wrinkles or folds, called con- 
volutions, which afford a large surface for the gray matter. The 
cerebrum is divided into two hemispheres, connected beneath by 
fibres of white matter. We thus have a double brain, as we have 
two eyes, two hands, etc. These two hemispheres seem to be 
independent in their operations, as one hemisphere has been 
almost entirely destroyed without apparent injury to the mental 
powers. The cerebrum is the seat of intelligence ; when it is re- 
moved from animals they pass into a state of apathy and stupor. 

The Cerebellum. — The Cerebellum lies behind the cerebrum, in 
the back part of the head. Its structure is similar to the cere- 
brum, but instead of convolutions it has parallel ridges which let 
the gray matter down into the white, presenting a peculiar 



88 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

appearance called the arbor-vitce, or tree of life. The cerebellum 
seems to be the centre of voluntary motion ; when it is injured or 
diseased, persons walk unsteadily as if intoxicated. Birds from 
which it has been removed lose control of their muscles. 

TJie Spinal Cord. — The Spinal Cord begins at the brain in 
an expansion called the medulla oblongata, and passes down the 
cavity of the back-bone. It consists of the same tissue as the 
brain, but has the white fibres on the outside and the gray cells 
within. It is separated into halves by deep fissures, called the 
anterior and posterior fissures. Each half of the cord is divided 
longitudinally into three equal parts, the anterior, lateral, and 
posterior columns, by the lines of attachment of the roots of the 
spinal nerves. These nerves pass out of the spinal cord by aper- 
tures between the vertebra?, and then divide and subdivide and 
pass to the muscles and skin. 

The Nerves. — The Nerves are silvery threads composed, like 
the spinal cord, of white matter without and gray matter within. 
Those which carry an impulse to the brain or to any central 
organ, are called sensory or afferent nerves ; those which carry 
away an impulse from an organ are called motor or efferent nerves. 
If a sensory nerve is cut, sensation in the part to which it goes is 
lost, while motion remains ; if the motor nerve is cut, motion is 
lost, but sensation remains. The structure of these two classes o± 
nerves seems to be the same. The impulse which travels along 
them requires time for its passage, and is much slower than many 
other forces, even slower than sound. 

Classes of Nerves. — The Nerves are of three classes ; the spinal, 
cranial, and sympathetic. The Spinal Nerves arise from the spinal 
cord by two roots ; the anterior root is the motor and the poster- 
ior is the sensory one. The anterior connects with the white 
matter of the cord ; the posterior connects with the gray matter, 
and has a small ganglion of its own at a little distauce from the 
origin. These roots unite and are bound up in one sheath, though 
they preserve their special functions. If the anterior root is cut, 
voluntary motion is lost and sensation remains ; if the posterior 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 89 

root is cut, sensation is lost and voluntary movement remains. If 
both are cut, irritation of the anterior root below the point of 
division causes motion, while irritation of the posterior root above 
this point causes pain. 

The Cranial Nerves spring from the lower parts of the brain 
and the medulla oblongata. They go to the face, nose, ear, eye, 
tongue, larynx, lungs, stomach, etc. The Sympathetic System 
consists of a double chain of ganglia on each side of the spinal 
column, extending into the chest and abdomen. From these 
ganglia, delicate nerves run to the vital organs, — the heart, lungs, 
stomach, etc., to the veins and arteries, and to the spinal and 
cranial nerves. 

Functions of the Nerves. — The nerves serve to convey impres- 
sions and impulses to and from the central organs. One filament 
of each pair of nerves carries the sensation to the central organ, 
and the other filament carries the impulse from the central organ. 
If any point where they terminate is excited, one filament conveys 
the notice to the brain or ganglion, and the other brings an im- 
pulse back to the point where the sensation occurred. When an 
impression is made on any part of the body, the message flashes 
inward on the afferent nerve, and an answer is flashed outward to 
the place on the efferent nerve. This may be a matter of con- 
sciousness ; or it may occur without the knowledge of the mind. 
This power of involuntary nervous action is called the reflex action 
of the nervous system. 

Mejieac Action. — Reflex action is the power of converting 
afferent into efferent impulses, or of sending back or reflecting an 
impression of the nervous system. Thus, if a person whose legs 
are paralyzed by spinal injury and consequently immovable, be 
tickled on the soles of the feet, the legs will kick out convulsively. 
The impulse is reflected from the spinal cord. Winking at a 
flash of light or a threatened blow, is an example of reflex action, 
in which the afferent nerves are the optic and the efferent nerves 
the facial. When a bad smell causes a grimace, the reflex action 
comes through the facial nerves, the olfactory nerves being affer- 



90 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ent and carrying the impression to the brain. This power is pos- 
sessed by the gray matter and not by the white, and resides con- 
sequently in the ganglia, spinal cord, and brain. 

Importance of Reflex Action. — The principle of reflex action is 
important in explaining several processes connected with the 
action of the mind. Many of the operations in complex mental 
activities are due to this principle. Actions which at first require 
attention and volition, by frequent repetition become in a manner 
part of our organization, and are performed without volition or 
even consciousness. 

The possibility of physical education is based upon the existence 
of this power, which the nervous system possesses, of organizing 
conscious actions into unconscious or reflex operations. The 
training of a gymnast, the practice of a dancer, the drill of a 
soldier, etc., are all founded upon this principle. The force of 
habit is illustrated by the story of the practical joker who, seeing 
a discharged veteran carrying home his dinner, suddenly called 
out "Attention," whereupon the man instantly brought his hands 
down to the soldier's position, and lost his mutton and potatoes in 
the gutter. Even the mind itself acquires habits by which it 
tends to reproduce often-repeated words and thoughts. 

Organs of 'Perception. — The nervous tissue possesses the 
property of being sensitive to impressions of objects. It is ar- 
ranged into organs in different places, and adapted to different 
impressions and sensations. In some cases there is a complicated 
organ, as the eye and ear ; in other cases there is simply an ex- 
pansion of the nervous tissue. The several classes of nerves of 
sensation are those of touch, taste, smell, sight, and hearing. All 
the knowledge we have of the qualities of bodies comes through 
the impressions made on these different nerves. Having given 
this explanation of the organism, we proceed to explain how the 
mind perceives through the different senses. 

II. The Perceptive Process. 
How does the mind perceive through the senses ? What is the 
method by which the immaterial spirit takes cognizance of the 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 91 

objects of the material world ? This is one of the first and one 
of the most difficult inquiries of mental philosophy. In answer 
to this question, it may be briefly stated that external bodies make 
an impression on the nervous organism, producing sensations, and 
that perception is the result. How this occurs, how an impression 
on the sense appears as conscious knowledge in the mind, is a 
mystery which is perhaps beyond the power of human philosophy 
to unfold with complete satisfaction. 

Nature of the Subject. — In order fully to appreciate the dis- 
cussion of the question, we should imagine ourselves without any 
knowledge of external objects whatever, and then try to trace our 
way out from the subjective world to the objective world; to 
bridge over the chasm between the ego and the non-ego, and show 
how the immaterial spirit cognizes the material object. The ex- 
planation of this is what we call the process of perception. 

Methods of Explanation. — There have been many theories 
advanced to explain the process of perception. Most of the 
reeent writers in this country have based their methods of explan- 
ation on that of Sir William Hamilton ; and at least the spirit of 
his method is the one adopted in the present work. The process 
is by nearly all modern writers divided into two distinct parts, — 
Sensation and Perception. Perception is usually regarded as 
including two things ; the cognition of the organism, and the 
cognition of the external object. We shall, in describing the 
process, divide it into four distinct parts or steps : first, Simple 
Sensation; second, the Distinct Cognition of the Sensation ; third, 
the Cognition of the Sentient Organism ; fourth, the Cognition of 
the External Object. 

Simple Sensation* — The first step in the process of percep- 
tion, or rather the condition of that process, is simple sensation. 
Something touches me, an impression is made on the nervous 
organism, that impression is transmitted to the brain, and I am 
conscious of a certain feeling which we call a sensation. This feel- 
ing belongs to the nervous organism as connected with the mind, 
and involves no act of the intellect. The nervous tissue is sensi- 



92 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

tive, and the feeling experienced is an affection of the nervous 
organism as connected with the mind. The process, so far, does 
not involve an act of perception, but is merely the condition of 
perception. 

Cognition of the Sensation. — The mind is now aroused by . 
this sensation, and the attention is directed to it. The sensation 
is cognized as an actual condition, as a real phenomenon, a some- 
thing that now is and which was not. As these phenomena are 
repeated, the mind distinguishes one sensation from another, which 
involves an act of memory and comparison. It also cognizes the 
length of the sensation in time, as in a sound, the position of the 
sensation in space, as in touch, its intensity, as in color, etc. 

I do not, however, know what produced the sensation, or 
whether anything produced it. I do not at first recognize it as 
an affection of my bodily organism, or even know that I have a 
bodily organism. I am conscious of it only as a feeling, though 
a feeling distinct in time, place, and degree. The process is en- 
tirely within the mind, a purely subjective process. It is, how- 
ever, a cognition of the mind, and, therefore, an act of perception. 
This is really the first step in the process of perception. 

Cognition of the Organism. — The second step in the process 
is the cognition of the organism. These sensations are exper- 
ienced in different places, and are thus cognized as apart from one 
another. Thus a pain in the head, a prick in the finger, a w r ound 
in the foot, are felt at different places. To experience sensations 
in different places is to cognize a difference of place or locality. 
This cognition of locality leads to the idea of outness and thus 
of extension. This outness or extension is limited by the position 
of the different sensations ; I thus cognize an extended limited 
something as the seat of sensations. This extended something, 
limited by the locality of sensations, we call the sentient organism. 
The sentient organism thus passes under the eye of consciousness, 
and becomes an object of cognition, distinct from the mind per- 
ceiving it. It is to me an externality having extension, and also 
form as the limitation of extension. It is to me a non-ego, dis- 
tinct from the ego, which perceives it. 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 93 

This cognition of the organism is aided, no doubt, by the sen- 
sations of the internal organs. The sensations of the muscles and 
viscera are felt in different places, and assist in limiting and filling 
out our idea of an extended sentient organism. 

Remarks on the Process. — In this cognition we pass beyond sen- 
sation and the subjective phase of perception, to perception in its 
objective phase : it has been regarded by some writers as the first 
step of perception proper. It is an act of the mind midway be- 
tween the cognition of the sensation and the perception of the ex- 
ternal object. In it we reach the first objective non-ego as dis- 
tinct from the ego. It is thus seen that the consciousness of the 
sensation is not perception, but the condition of perception ; that 
the distinct cognition of the sensation as such is an act of per- 
ception in its subjective phase; and that the cognition of the 
organism as distinct from the sentient mind is an act of per- 
ception in its first objective phase. 

Cognition of the Object. — The process is still incomplete, for 
there is as yet no conception of the external object. How, then, 
does the mind get out into the objective world and perceive the 
object itself? This is the most difficult part of the subject, and 
the point on which philosophers differ most widely. The follow- 
ing explanation seems to me to be simple and satisfactory : 

One Explanation. — I am conscious of my bodily organism as 
extended. I touch some part of the organism, as my wrist, with 
my fingers, and find a double sensation, the feeling in my wrist as 
touched, and in my fingers as touching. I touch some other 
object, as a book, and find but one set of sensations, that in my 
fingers. Thus I cognize something different from my bodily organ- 
ism, something that gives a sensation, but which does not possess 
the capacity for sensations. This new something now becomes an 
object of attention. I pass my hand along it, and for a certain 
time experience a sensation which afterward ceases ; from this I 
perceive the object has a limitation in length. I then find its 
limitations in breadth and thickness in the same way, and thus 
cognize it as extended. I thus get a cognition of an extended 
something different from my organism — that is, of an extended 
object. 



94 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Hamilton's Explanation. — Sir William Hamilton explains the 
perception of an external object through the cognition, of resist- 
ance to our locomotive energy. I am conscious of my bodily 
organism, and conscious that it is capable of movement in obed- 
ience to my volition. I am conscious of the effort to move my 
person or one of its members, and also conscious of being resisted 
in these movements. This new phenomenon, resistance, now be- 
comes an object of attention. To know that I am resisted is to 
know, by a necessary law of intelligence, that something resists ; 
and consciousness revealing nothing within the mind as resisting, 
we are compelled to attribute it to something external to the mind. 
To be conscious of resistance and know that it does not arise from 
the ego, is to know that it must arise from a non-ego, and, there- 
fore, that this non-ego exists. Thus the outer world passes under 
the eye of consciousness, and becomes indirectly an object of per- 
ception. 

Steps not Distinct. — In this analysis of the powers of percep- 
tion we have regarded the act of perception as broken up into 
several distinct parts or steps. This division is, however, a logical 
rather than a psychological one. Chronologically, the act is one 
and indivisible ; the sensation and the perception are synchronous. 
We are not, in an act of perception, first conscious of a sensation, 
then of the bodily organism, and then of an external something 
as producing the sensation. Usually the three are immediately 
united in a single act of perception. The explanation given, it 
must be remembered, is that of the original process in learning 
to perceive, and not of our matured acts of perception. There 
may be sensation, of course, without the cognition of an external 
object ; but there can be no cognition of an external object with- 
out sensation. 

III. Remarks on the Process op Perception. 

The foregoing discussion will give one a general idea of the 
process by which the mind perceives objects through the senses. 
A few remarks upon the method described will afford a clearer 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 95 

idea of some points involved in the process, and also answer some 
questions which naturally grow out of it. 

Sensation and Perception. — Sensation and Perception are 
to be clearly discriminated. Sensation is simply the phenomenon 
of feeling as an affection of the organism. It is purely subject- 
ive, and is the immediate result of some impression on the organs 
of sense. Perception is the cognition of the feeling as a distinct 
phenomenon ; the cognition of the organism as affected and as an 
externality having extension ; and, also, the cognition of objects 
external to the organism. Sensation is thus the indispensable 
condition of perception. Some writers seem to regard the cogni- 
tion of " the sensation as such " as a mere sensation ; but since it 
involves a distinct act of mind, it is more than sensation, and 
must be considered as an act of perception. 

Relation of Sensation and Perception. — The relation of 
Sensation and Perception is expressed by a law simple and uni- 
versal in its character. This law, as stated by Hamilton, is as 
follows : Perception and /Sensation, though always co-emstent, are 
always in the inverse ratio of each other. That is, the stronger the 
sensation the weaker the perception, and vice versa. Thus, in 
sight, where perception is at its maximum, sensation is at its min- 
imum, for we are not conscious of any organic pleasure or pain 
from the impression of colors on the retina. In touch, where the 
sensation is distinctly felt, the perception is feeble. The same law 
holds in the relative operations of each sense, for the more intense 
the impression on any one sense, within certain limits, the less 
distinct the perception. Thus in the sense of sight, if the im- 
pression be strong, we are dazzled or blinded, and while conscious 
of the sensation, perception is nearly or wholly lost. 

Nature of Sensation.— -The nature of sensation is not fully 
understood. Whether the modification of the organs of sense 
extends inward beyond the surface, is a question difficult to 
answer. Some have supposed that the impression is carried along 
the nerves to the brain either by vibrations in the substance of 
the nerve or by the " flow of animal spirits," or by some general 



96 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

nervous agent, or by the influx of actual representative films or 
forms or species from without. These, however, are mere hypoth- 
eses, some of them utterly inconceivable, and none of them estab- 
lished by experiment. Some, again, suppose that the mind per- 
vades the entire sentient organism, or passes down from its 
presence-chamber in the brain to the place where the impression 
is made. Knowing nothing about it, however, we can assert 
nothing. 

Explanation Based on Touch. — The explanation of the 
perceptive process here presented is based on the sense of touch. 
It does not attempt to explain how we perceive objects by the eye 
or ear. It assumes that our first perceptions of external objects 
come through the sense of touch, and that the other senses are 
instructed by the sense of touch. Thus in hearing, it is held that 
all that this sense gives us is the cognition of sound ; and that, 
having learned by touch that there is an external world, we learn 
by experience to refer the sound to an external object. So, in 
respect to sight, it is held that the ideas of color and form, if sight 
gives form, are referred by experience to the objects which by 
touch we have learned exist around us. The same also is true 
with respect to smell and taste. This phase of the subject will 
be discussed more fully under the next general head. 

Direct and Indirect Perception. — It is held by the advo- 
cates of this view that perception through touch, or muscular 
resistance, is a direct cognition of the external world, and that all 
other perception of external objects is indirect. Thus, when Ave 
hear a sound and refer it by experience to a passing carriage, we 
are said to perceive the carriage, not directly, but indirectly. So 
when we smell a fragrance and refer it to a rose or pink, we are 
said to perceive the rose or pink indirectly. Some of the cogni- 
tions of sight also are explained in the same way. 

Acquired Perceptions. — These indirect perceptions are also 
called acquired perceptions. We acquire the power of using one 
sense in place of another, or of applying the knowledge which is 
given by one sense to something given by another sense. Thus, 



THE NATURE OF PEECEPTION. 97 

when I hear a sound, I know it comes from a piano, a flute, or a 
person ; . and the sound awakens the perception of the object. So 
when I see iron glowing in the furnace, I say it " looks hot ;" 
though heat is a perception of touch. These two classes of sense- 
perceptions are distinguished as original and acquired. An orig- 
inal perception is that which is given by a single sense when used 
alone ; an acquired perception is that which is given by using the 
knowledge afforded directly by one sense as the sign of know- 
ledge which we gain by some other sense. This is more fully 
discussed under the next general head — -Perception by the Differ- 
ent Senses. 

The Forming of Percepts. — The product of Perception is 
called a percept. A percept may be defined as the idea we have 
of any particular object. Our ideas of objects are complex, being 
composed of different elements given by the different senses. 
Thus my idea of an orange embraces its form, color, weight, hard- 
ness and softness, fragrance, taste, etc., some elements being given 
by one sense and some by another. Each of these elements is 
called a simple percept ; and their union in a single idea which we 
call the orange is a complex percept. Some writers call the former 
a percept and the complex percept a thing ; but thing seems to 
refer to the external object rather than to our idea of it. It is 
thus thought to be better to call one a percept and the other a 
complex percept — or simply a percept. 

Synthesis of the Elements. — The synthesis of the different 
elements into one idea involves an act of the understanding and 
of intuition. The bringing of the elements together seems to be 
an act of the understanding ; the cognition of them as belonging 
to a substance, and the distinction of substance and attribute, in- 
volves an act of the intuitive power. An act of perception, as is 
shown in the discussion of the intuitive power, is thus completed 
by an act of intuition. The mental picture we form of the object 
is given by the representative element of the mind. Perception 
furnishes the materials ; representation makes the picture. 

Source of Knowledge. — Perception is the source of our 
5 



98 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

knowledge of an external world. It is the power by which the 
immaterial spirit comes in contact, as it were, with the external 
world and. knows it. We may, perhaps, conceive of a being so 
constituted as to be independent of sense, and yet as taking cog- 
nizance, in some mysterious manner, of objects external to itself; 
but not such a being is man. Whatever may be the power of the 
human mind, when separated from the body, to perceive external 
things, in the present life it can cognize matter only through the 
avenues of sense. The mind, seated in its presence-chamber, the 
brain, looks out upon the material world through the senses, the 
windows of the soul, and perceives that it has color, and form, 
and actual existence. 

Basis of All Knowledge. — Perception lies at the. basis of all 
knowledge. All mental activity begins in the senses. The outer 
world makes impressions on our senses, and arouses the mind into 
activity. By this activity we gain a knowledge of the world 
without, and also originate knowledge different from that of the 
things of the material world. Without the power of sense-per- 
ception, it is to be doubted whether we could attain to any know- 
ledge whatever. All knowledge does not come directly from 
perception through the senses, however. We have a knowledge 
of external objects, and we have also knowledge that transcends 
this knowledge of external objects. Perception is the immediate 
source of the first kind of knowledge, and the indirect source of 
the second kind of knowledge. 

This Distinction Expressed. — This distinction is often ex- 
pressed by the terms cause and occasion. Thus perception is said 
to be the cause of our knowledge of objects, since it is the imme- 
diate source of such knowledge. Perception is also said to be the 
occasion of the ideas and truths of intuition ; for, though in a 
sense necessary to these ideas, it is not the source of them. Per- 
ception also furnishes the understanding with materials out of 
which it derives ideas and truths beyond the sphere of sense. As 
thus attaining a knowledge of external objects, affording material 
for the operations of the understanding, and furnishing the occa- 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 99 

sion for the activity of the intuitive power, perception may be 
said to. lie at the basis of all knowledge. 

IV. Perception by the Different Senses. 

The general characteristic of the nervous organism is its suscep- 
tibility to impressions. This general susceptibility is the basis of 
all sensations. There are five distinct modifications of the general 
structure or functions of the nervous organism, each of which 
gives us peculiar qualities of bodies. These five distinct modifica- 
tions form what we call the Senses. There are thus five senses, 
namely; Touch, Sight, Hearing, Smell, and Taste. Touch is 
nearly identical with the general nervous susceptibility. While, 
however, there is a general susceptibility to impressions all over 
the surface of the body, the sense of Touch is specially provided 
for in the fingers. The other senses have special organs supplied 
with particular nerves for the perception of special qualities of 
objects. 

Knowledge from Each Sense. — The question now arises, — - 
What knoAvledge is given by the different senses ? The investi- 
gation of this subject is of great importance in determining the 
character of perception. The object is to discover the use and 
value of each one of the senses. What is given, for instance, in 
Hearing ? Do we hear an object, or do we hear the sound merely? 
Can we tell, primarily, the distance and direction of the sounding 
body, or are these the result of experience and judgment ? What 
is given in Sight? Do we perceive primarily only color, or can 
we see surface extension, or even trinal extension ? Can we per- 
ceive through the eye the relative distance of objects, or is that a 
matter of experience ? These and similar questions we now pro- 
ceed to consider. 

Perception by Touch. — The Organs of Touch are the fingers. 
These are endowed with a special sensitiveness to external im- 
pressions. When my fingers touch an object, I experience a feel- 
ing. This feeling is felt in the fingers at the place of contact. 
All that I cognize, however, is a mere feeling. It is purely sub- 



100 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

jective, pertaining to the organism, and not to any tiling external 
to the organism. If repeated, I could distinguish it from former 
feelings ; but I would not know that it was in any way related to 
an external object. In and of itself, it would not suggest the ex- 
istence of any external object. If I were motionless and had no 
other sense, it is a question whether I should ever be able, by pure 
touch alone, to gain a knowledge of external objects. 

The cognition of external objects is known by a comparison of 
the sensations produced in touching the organism and an external 
body. It is also determined by muscular resistance,- as already 
explained. Both of these experiences are no doubt involved in 
this cognition of external objects. Either one might be able to 
furnish the cognition ; but in reality, no doubt, they combine to 
produce the result. 

Perception by Smell. — The Organ of Smell is the JSTose, the 
interior of which consists of convoluted plates, giving a large 
extent of surface in a small space. Over these bony plates is 
spread the olfactory nerve, which is covered by a mucous mem- 
brane. This nerve is susceptible to minute particles thrown off 
from bodies and borne through the air to the interior of the nose. 

Direct Perception. — What we perceive in smell is merely the 
sensation of odor. The particles produce a sensation in the organ, 
and this is all that we primarily perceive. AVe do not know 
primarily what caused the sensation, or whether it was caused by 
anything objective to ourselves. It is purely a subjective phe- 
nomenon. If we had no other senses than smell, we could never 
know that the odor had any relation to an objective cause. 

Acquired Perception. — By experieiics we learn to associate 
odors with external objects. We notice the presence of odors 
when certain objects are present, and thus learn to attribute the 
odor to the object which produced it. The perception of a fra- 
grance, as of a rose, in time will enable us to cognize the rose 
itself. This is an acquired knowledge, however, and not an act 
of pure perception. It is the result of judgment combining the 
sensation of perfume with some other perception. It is what is 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 101 

called a derived or an indirect perception. It will be noticed 
that we cannot learn to judge of the direction of an object by its 
odor, nor very accurately of its distance. 

Perception by Taste. — The Organs of Taste consist of the 
Tongue, the Palate, and a portion of the Pharynx. On these 
organs ramify the filaments of the gustatory nerve, arranged in 
minute papillae. This nerve is susceptible to certain qualities of 
bodies called their savor. 

Direct Perception. — What we perceive in taste, as in touch 
and smell, is merely a sensation. The savor of objects affects the 
nerve of taste in a certain way, and the result is a sensation. 
This sensation is the object of perception. We discriminate one 
flavor from another, and apply names to the different flavors, as 
bitter, sweet, spicy, pungent, acrid, etc. This is all that is directly 
given by taste. 

Acquired Perception. — We afterward learn, by experience, 
to associate certain sensations of taste with certain objects, known 
by some of the other senses, and thus to cognize, objects through 
their flavors. Thus I can, with my eyes shut, tell sugar, or tea, or 
coffee, by their flavor. This, however, is an acquired knowledge, 
and not the result of pure or direct perception. The cognition 
of an object through its flavor is called an acquired or an indi- 
rect perception. 

Perception by Hearing. — The Organ of Hearing is the Ear. 
The ear is a complicated organ, consisting of several parts. There 
is first an exterior expanded appendage, contracted into a small 
tube, across the end of which is stretched a membrane forming 
the head of the tympanum, or drum of the ear. In this drum 
there is a series of small bones whose office it is to transmit the 
vibrations of the membrane. Beyond the tympanum is the laby- 
rinth, a convoluted chamber containing a watery fluid in which 
the filaments of the auditory nerve are spread out. 

The external ear collects the vibrations of the air caused by 
sonorous bodies ; these are carried through the tube to the drum 
of the ear ; they are then transmitted by the series of small 



102 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

bones, and thus reach the fluid, the vibrations of which affect the 
auditory nerve, and thence results the sensation of sound. 

Direct Perception. — The sense of hearing gives us the idea 
of sound. This idea can come from no other sense. If Ave were 
born without the sense of hearing, we could never have the idea 
of sound. No description or illustration could convey this idea • 
to the mind of a person who was deaf from infancy. Sound is a 
sensation, and the perception of sound is the cognition of a sensa- 
tion. Sound itself has no existence outside and distinct from my 
sensation of it. Strictly speaking, sound does not exist outside 
of myself; there may be air- waves, but not sound. 

Purely Subjective. — This cognition is, therefore, purely sub- 
jective. Not only is it subjective, but primarily I have no idea 
that it has any relation to an object distinct from myself. I do 
hot know, primarily, that this sensation is caused by an external 
object, or that it bears any relation to such an object. Indeed, 
from hearing alone I would not know that there is anything ex- 
ternal to myself. When I say I hear a bell, a bird, a carriage, 
etc., I do not, strictly speaking, hear these objects, but rather the 
sound made by them; and the cognition of the object through the 
sound is not direct perception, but a matter of inference or judg- 
ment. In a secondary sense, however, the word sound is applied 
to the air-waves, as well as to the sensation. It is transferred from 
its primary or subjective meaning to a secondary or objective one. 

Distinguish Sounds. — We perceive sounds in their peculiar- 
ities, and distinguish them according to. their differences or quali- 
ties. Thus we distinguish them in volume, as loud and soft, with 
many degrees of the same. We also distinguish them as to pitch, 
from very low to very high, running through five or six octaves, 
with all their intermediate tones. We also notice their succes- 
sion, which gives us rhythmic measure, the first element of music, 
as in the drum, and in the metre of verse. When the difference 
of pitch is combined with time, we have melody ; and when sev- 
eral sounds are heard at the same time, we perceive harmony and 
discord. The complete cognition of some of these distinctions 
probably involves other faculties than pure perception, however. 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 103 

Acquired Perception. — Having gained a knowledge of ex- 
ternal objects through some of the other senses, we begin to asso- 
ciate these sounds with objects, and thus learn to refer particular 
sounds to particular objects. We learn to give objectivity to our 
sensations of sound, and speak of them as belonging to objects, as 
the song of a robin, the roar of the wind, the voice of a friend, 
etc. We thus, through the sense of hearing, come to have an 
indirect perception of the objects of the external world. We 
know that the car is passing, by its sound ; that a gun was fired, 
by its report, etc. 

Associated tvith Ideas. — We learn also to associate these 
sounds with certain emotions, as the sigh with sorrow, the groan 
with pain, the laugh with joy, etc., and to regard the sound as the 
expression of the emotion. We go even further than this, and 
form sounds to represent our ideas and thoughts, and thus com- 
municate with our fellow-men by means of language. Sound 
thus becomes the medium of communication from one soul to 
another ; it is, as it were, a bridge on which thought and sentiment 
travel from one mind and heart to another. The soul thus em- 
bodies its thought and feeling in sound; the wealth of spoken 
language is one of the marvels of science and art. 

Judge of Direction. — We learn also to judge of the direction 
of sounding objects from us. Whether this is an original or an 
acquired power has been a question ; that is, whether a child 
knows primarily the direction of a sounding object, or acquires 
the power of judging its direction. It is, no doubt, an acquired 
power ; for if sound was not originally cognized as objective, it 
could not have been cognized as having direction. How we judge 
of the direction of sounds is a mystery ; but it is supposed by 
some to be due to our having two ears, and to the ability of 
turning the head in different directions, though this explanation 
is not entirely satisfactory. 

Judge of Distance. — We also learn to judge of the distance 
of objects from us by their sound. This is evidently due to the 
different degrees of intensitv of the sound ; the degree being 



10-± MENTAL SCIENCE. 

noticed by our having previously associated the sound with the 
object and being familiar with each. The ability to judge of dis- 
tance and direction may be cultivated to a high degree of accur- 
acy. Napoleon, it is said, was seldom mistaken with respect to 
the direction and distance of a cannonade. The Indian of our 
northwestern prairies, by applying his ear to the ground, will 
detect the approach of a body of cavalry at a distance beyond 
the reach of vision, and distinguish their tread from that of a 
herd of buffaloes. 

.Perception by Sight. — The Organ of Sight is the Eye. It 
is a complicated organ, consisting of two humors and a lens 
through which the rays of light pass to the inner surface, the 
back part of which is covered with a fine network expansion of 
the optic nerve called the retina. At the centre of the retina is 
a small yellow spot which is especially sensitive to light, and is 
chiefly employed in direct vision. The rays of light coming from 
an object cross one another in their progress through the eye, and 
form an inverted image or picture of the object on the retina. 
The impression of this image or picture of the object is in some 
mysterious way the condition of our perception of the object. 

Conditions of Vision. — The several conditions for an act of 
vision are; — first, an eye with its sensitive retina; second, an 
object with a certain amount of light issuing from it; third, the 
power of adjusting the eye to more or less light by a change in 
the pupil ; fourth, muscular movements in adapting the eyes to 
the direction and distance of the objects perceived. These circum- 
stances enter into the act" of perceiving, and assist in explaining 
the process. Understanding this, we proceed to explain what 
we perceive through the sense of sight primarily, and what are 
our acquired perceptions. 

Sight Gives Color. — First, sight gives us the sensation and per- 
ception of color. This idea can be obtained by no other sense ; 
without sight we could never have any idea of color. This idea 
is originally purely subjective, like that of sound. There is, of 
course, some peculiarity of the external object that produces this 



THE NATUKE OF PERCEPTION". 105 

sensation ; but what that condition is, we do not know from sight. 
We, of course, refer our sensation of color to objects, but whether 
we did so at first or not, is a question. If we had no other sense 
than sight, it is a question whether we would ever know that color 
had any relation to anything beyond or outside of ourselves. 

The Sensation of Color. — The sensation of color is due to the 
action on the retina of rays of light of a different wave-length. 
Thus, if a certain number of waves impinge on the retina in a 
unit of time, the sensation is red; if about twice the number in 
the same time, the sensation is violet ; and the other colors of the 
spectrum originate in a similar manner. If two or more of the 
simple colors of the spectrum act upon the same spot of the retina 
simultaneously, it may produce the sensation of a mixed color. 
Some suppose that there are three kinds of nerve fibres in the 
retina, the excitation of which gives the three primary colors, red, 
green, and violet. The sensations of the other colors are produced 
by the different degrees in which these fibres are brought into 
united activity. This knowledge is given by natural philosophy, 
however, and not by psychology. We are not conscious, in an 
act of perception, of any of these facts. 

Extension and Form. — Sight, according to our present ex- 
perience, gives us the cognition of extension and form. Whether 
this is a direct or an acquired perception is, however, a question. 
Is the percept of color primarily perceived as extended ? Is there 
a visual image in the perception of color, which the mind per- 
ceives as distinct from and beyond the organ of sense ? In other 
words, do we, by the eye, primarily perceive the extension and 
form of objects ? This is a difficult question to decide, and one 
upon which philosophers are not agreed. We shall give argu- 
ments on both sides of the question, and endeavor to reach a cor- 
rect conclusion in respect to it. 

Color, and not Extension. — It is supposed by some that color is 

merely a physiological affection of the nervous organism, like 

sound. We do not perceive sound as extended ; and the same has 

been supposed to be true of color. Both these sensations are pro- 

5* 



106 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

duced by the vibrations of a medium, one of air, the other of 
ether : the vibrations of air affect the auditory nerve and give the 
sensation of sound ; the vibrations of ether affect the optic nerve 
and give the sensation of color. Sound is not perceived as ex- 
tended ; what reason have we to suppose that color is ? These 
considerations seem to lead to the conclusion that we originally 
perceived color Avithout the perception of extension. Several 
reasons, however, may be given in favor of the perception of color 
as extended. 

Portion of the Retina. — In vision a certain portion of the retina 
in length and breadth is affected. The picture covers a certain 
part of the sensitive surface of the retina, and this seems to be a 
condition of perceiving surface extension. In objection to this, it 
may be said that the same thing may be asserted of taste and 
smell, in Avhich there is no perception of extension. To this we 
reply that in those senses an indefinite portion of the surface is 
affected, while in sight the picture covers a distinct and definitely 
marked outline. In touch I can distinguish the shape of a small 
object placed on the palm of my hand, perceiving whether it is 
round or square ; and the blind detect the shape of the letters 
with the ends of their fingers. So it is thought that the delicately 
organized retina is susceptible to the shape of the picture upon it, 
and perhaps even to the shades of color which indicate solidity. 

Reflection from Objects. — Second, the fact that light comes to us 
reflected from external objects in straight lines is not without 
weight in determining this question. Extension, surface expan- 
sion, seems to be the necessary condition for color ; and it is diffi- 
cult to conceive that what we know to be a condition for the 
existence of color, is not given along with the perception of color. 
In this respect, color is entirely different from sound. Color 
depends on the size of the object, on the amount of surface ex- 
pansion ; sound has no such dependence. The size, so to speak, 
of a sound, is not measured by the size of the sounding body. In- 
crease the size of a string, and it does not necessarily increase the 
size of the sound ; but the extent of color varies directly with the 
size of the object which affords the sensation. 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 107 

Color and Extension Inseparable. — Third, the impossibility of 
our conceiving of color without having an idea of it as extended 
seems to be a conclusive argument. I conceive of sound, flavor, 
etc., without any notion of extension ; but what conception can I 
have of color without the conception of it as extended? Can I 
conceive of such a conception ? can I have such a conception ? 
Are we not thus forced to the conclusion that color is primarily 
conceived as extended ? 

In reply to this consideration. Dr. Brown says that it is a mere 
habit of association, and does not prove anything. If we had 
always seen color associated with convexity, we would not be able 
to separate our idea of color from convexity. This cannot be 
admitted, however. If we had never experienced color except as 
associated with convexity, it would be an easy matter to transfer 
the quality to a plane surface, or to a concave surface, or to any 
imaginable form, just as now we can give any color to any new 
form that we may see, or even to a new form that we may imagine. 
The arguments therefore seem to be in favor of sight giving us 
primarily extension and figure. 

Tritial Extension,. — Sight also at present seems to give us, 
not only surface extension, but also trinal extension. It is a ques- 
tion, however, whether this is an original or an acquired per- 
ception. Do we by the eye originally see objects as possessing 
thickness as well as length and breadth ? This is also a question 
difficult to decide. We incline to the opinion that the perception 
of trinal extension is acquired by experience. Primarily we per- 
ceive objects as having only surface extension. The trunk of a 
tree, for instance, would seem merely like a ribbon of light; we 
should not know that it had solidity. How then, we inquire, is 
this perception acquired ? 

Idea How Acquired. — In looking at objects we notice a varia- 
tion of light and shade in their appearance. At first we would 
not understand what this variation of light and shade means. "We 
know the forms of these objects by touch; Ave then learn the 
meaning of this variation of light and shade in respect to form ; 



108 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

and learning to interpret light and shade, we thus learn to cognize 
the form of objects through sight. It is as in a painting, where, 
though all the colors are on a flat surface, the variations of color 
make things appear as if they were solid. It is probable we are 
aided in the perception of the solidity of objects by the varying 
effort and angle under which the axes of the eyes are concentrated 
upon different parts of the object, the parts more remote requiring 
a different angle from those nearer. The sense of touch is thus 
the schoolmaster of the eye in respect to trinal extension, and the 
power of perceiving it through the eye is an acquired one. 

Perception of Distance. — We also by the eye perceive the 
distance of objects from us and from one another. It is a ques- 
tion, however, whether this is an original or an acquired percep- 
tion. The majority of philosophers seem to regard it as an 
acquired perception. Those who hold this view maintain that all 
that we originally perceive is the sensation of color, an*d that we 
learn by experience to refer it to objects external to ourselves. 
The following arguments seem to favor this view. 

Distance an Acquired Perception. — First, it is said that facts 
show that sight does not give distance. What we see at first 
seems to be in contact with the eye, and the belief that it is not, is 
acquired by experience. This is said to be shown in persons 
operated on for cataract and restored to sight. Dr. Cheselden 
says that the boy from whom he removed a cataract thought at 
first everything he saw touched his eyes. It is also said that per- 
sons released from a dungeon have no perception of the distances 
of objects. 

Second, it is also adduced in favor of this position that Ave are 
often mistaken in our judgment of distances. Mont Blanc, when 
it first dawns on the sight, seems only a mile or two away, while it 
may be really twelve or fifteen miles distant. As I sit in my 
room, I think I see a cow feeding in the meadow, and wondering 
why she does not change her position, I go to the window and find 
that what I took for a cow in the field is really a speck on the 
window pane. It has been supposed that such mistakes indicate 
that we do not primarily perceive objects as distant. 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 109 

Distance a Direct Perception. — There are also some considera- 
tions on the other side of the question. First, the fact that we 
do now so clearly see objects as distant from us is regarded as a 
proof that we did originally so see them. Second, the little child 
seems to reach out for things, as a burning lamp, as soon as it 
begins to notice anything. It does not reach up to its eyes, as we 
might expect it to do, if the primary cognition was a mere affec- 
tion of the organism. Third, the young of animals, also, as soon 
as they are born, seem to see things as external to themselves, and 
govern themselves accordingly'. The chicken runs for the mother 
hen, and the calf follows the cow with the eye, and goes in the 
direction in which she is seen. Fourth, the mistakes in judging 
of the exact distance of objects has no bearing on the question, as 
it is not the exact distance of objects, but the fact that they are 
perceived as beyond ourselves and at relative distances, with 
which we are concerned. 

Idea How Acquired. — If we do not primarily perceive objects 
as distant from us, and as relatively distant from one another, 
then the power of doing so is evidently an acquired one. Slowly 
and by a process of education in which touch plays an important 
part, we learn to refer the visual sensation to external objects. 
The intensity of light varies with the distance of a body. This 
variation in the intensity of light is noticed and associated with 
the distances of objects learned by touch, and we thus learn to 
judge of their distance by sight. We are also aided in this per- 
ception of distance by the muscular changes which adapt the lines 
of vision of the two eyes to the object when near or more remote. 
These changes may be distinctly noticed by looking at objects 
nearer and more remote, and observing the movements of the eye. 

Questions on Sight. — There are several questions relating to 
sight which naturally arise in this connection. These questions 
will be briefly considered. 

Perception of One Object. — The first question is, how do we 
see objects as single with two eyes? Since there are two pictures, 
one on each retina, it is natural to suppose we should see objects 



110 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

double. Several answers have been given to this question. Some 
think that only one eye is used in vision, the office of the second 
being to strengthen or reinforce the first. Others hold that the 
mind actually perceives two objects, but passes so rapidly from 
one to the other that the impression is made of seeing only one. 
Others again teach that the impressions are carried to a common 
point of meeting where they are fused into one. 

The correct explanation, probably, is that in looking at a single 
object with both eyes, the centres of the retinal images fall upon 
the centres of the " yellow spots " of the two eyes, or upon points 
similarly situated to these spots, and that this is the condition of 
single vision, — probably so learned by experience as controlled 
by touch. To illustrate, hold two pencils in a line before the eye 
six or twelve inches apart: now while we are looking at either 
one, the other will be seen double, for the reason that the retinal 
images are not in similar parts of the eye in relation to the line of 
vision. 

Perceiving Objects Erect. — Why is it that we perceive 
objects as erect when the images are inverted on the retina? In 
explanation of this question, it must be remembered that we are 
not conscious of the visual image in perception, but of the lumi- 
nous object from which the rays proceed. These objects we have 
found to be in a certain position by touch ; hence we cognize them 
in that position through the visual sensation. Again, in running 
the eye over an object, as a tree, from base to top, we are not con- 
scious of the different images on the retina, but of the muscular 
movements necessary to bring the parts successively on the yellow 
spot of the retina. We go upward for the top of a tree ; hence 
we cognize the top of a tree as above rather than below. These 
facts seem to indicate the correct explanation. Objects naturally 
appear to the eye in the position we have found them by touch. 

V. The Qualities of Bodies. 

In Perception we cognize, not matter itself, but the qualities 
of matter. Though by a law of thought we are conrpelled to 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. Ill 

assume for matter a substantive existence, yet we know it only 
through those peculiarities or properties which are revealed to us 
by the senses. These qualities of matter are various, some being 
perceived through one sense and some through another. They 
may all, however, be embraced under two general classes which 
have been named Primary Qualities and Secondary Qualities. 

The Primary Qualities. — The Primary Qualities of bodies 
are those which are necessary to the very existence of matter, or 
at least to our conception of it. They are inseparably connected 
with matter, so that we cannot in thought divest it of these quali- 
ties without destroying our conception of matter. Thus, if matter 
exists at all, it must have extension, size, figure, etc. We cannot 
think these attributes away from material things, and leave the 
things themselves existing. 

Criteria of Primary Qualities. — The criteria by which we deter- 
mine the primary qualities of bodies may be briefly stated as 
follows : 

1. They are essential to the existence of matter. That is, mat- 
ter could not exist without these qualities. 

2. They are known a priori, and not from experience. That is, 
our knowledge of them is not given by perception; they are 
known by intuition to be the necessary conditions for material 
existence. 

3. They are known as such or in themselves. That is, they are 
known to exist independently of any effect on the nervous organ- 
ism. 

Enumeration of Primary Qualities. — The Primary Qualities are 
Extension, Figure, Size, Divisibility, Density, and Impenetrabil- 
ity. Several of these qualities are subordinate to or implied in 
extension. Besides these, since objects exist in space, they are 
susceptible of Situation and Motion, which are sometimes em- 
braced among the primary qualities. 

The Secondary Qualities.— -The Secondary Qualities are 
those which are not necessary to the existence of matter, but 
that are accidental or contingent. They are qualities which may 



112 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

or may not be possessed by any object. We may, by an act of 
thought, divest a body of any one of these attributes without de- 
stroying the existence of the body. To take away a primary 
quality is to destroy the body ; to take away a secondary quality 
will not destroy the body, but merely change its nature. Thus a 
body may or may not be hard or soft, rough or smooth, have 
color or fragrance, etc. 

Criteria of Secondary Qualities. — The criteria of the secondary 
qualities may be briefly stated as follows : 

1. They are accidental and not essential to the existence of 
matter. The quality can be removed and the object still exist. 

2. They are known only through experience, or a posteriori. 
Our knowledge of them is given by perception, and not merely 
occasioned by perception. 

3. They are known only through the affection of the senses. 
We cognize them through the sensation which they produce by 
the impression on the organism. 

Enumeration of Secondary Qualities. — The Secondary Qualities 
are Hardness or Softness, Koughness or Smoothness, Solidity or 
Fluidity, Color, Sound, Flavor, Odor, etc. These qualities, it is 
seen, have a relation to our senses, and are known only through 
sensation. 

Division of Secondary Qualities. — The secondary qualities 
consist of two classes. There are some qualities which, though 
only known to us through the senses, have still an existence as 
qualities of external objects independent of our senses. Others 
are known, not as qualities of bodies, but only as affections of 
sense. Thus hardness, roughness, weight, etc., are qualities be- 
longing to the bodies themselves ; while color, flavor, sound, etc., 
are merely affections of the senses. The former qualities are 
perceived in the objects; the latter are perceived only as sen- 
sations. The former are objective, belonging to the object; the 
latter are subjective, belonging to the sentient organism. These 
two classes of qualities have been appropriately distinguished as 
mechanical and physiological. 



THE NATURE OF PERCEPTION. 113 

The Mechanical Qualities. — The first class are qualities of 
bodies as occupying space. They may all be included under the 
general category of resistance, and are thus appropriately called 
the mechanical properties of matter. They are distinguished from 
the. primary qualities in that they are perceived by an affection 
produced in the sentient organism, and also in that they are not 
essential to the existence of matter. They are distinguished from 
the physiological in that they have a real objective existence, in- 
dependent of the affection of the organism. 

Enumeration of Mechanical Qualities. — The mechanical quali- 
ties are Heavy and Light, Hard and Soft, Solid and Fluid, 
Rough and Smooth, Compressible and Incompressible, Resilient 
and Irresilient, etc. 

The Physiological Qualities. — The second class of the 
secondary qualities are the qualities of bodies as related to our 
sentient organism. They relate to bodies only as capable of pro- 
ducing certain sensations in us. As properties of bodies, they are 
not directly perceived, but only inferred as the supposed causes of 
the various affections produced in us by external objects. What 
we directly perceive are only the subjective affections of our senti- 
ent organism. When I perceive the color, smell, or taste of an 
orange, all that I perceive is a certain affection of my own organ- 
ism. 

Enumeration of Physiological Qualities. — -These physiological 
qualities are Color, Sound, Flavor, Odor, Temperature, Tactual 
Sensations, and some other affections of a similar nature. 

Qualities Corresponding in Objects. — What the peculiar 
properties in the objects are which are the exciting cause of these 
sensations is not known. My cognition does not extend to them; 
I only know the effect produced in my sentient organism. Thus 
in the perception of sound, what I perceive is the affection of my 
organism, and not any quality of the sounding body. It is true 
that we refer the effect produced to the object as the producing 
cause of it, but no one can suppose that the taste of an object, for 
instance, is the same as the quality of the object which gives rise 



114 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

to the taste. Since, however, we have but one name for the sen- 
sation and its cause, the name of the sensation is often used to 
denote the quality in the object. The name of the sensation is 
thus transferred from the affection to the property in the object 
producing it. It is only in this popular sense, therefore, that we 
may be said to perceive these qualities of objects. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE CULTURE OF PERCEPTION. 

HAVING explained the general character of the perceptive 
powers, Ave now proceed, to discuss the methods of giving 
culture to these powers. We shall speak of the Neglect of Cul- 
ture, the Importance of this Culture, the Difference of Perceptive 
Power, the Time for Culture, and the Methods of Culture. 

I. Neglect op Culture. — The culture of the perceptive 
powers is largely neglected. The powers of observation in chil- 
dren are not trained as they should be; and the neglect of child- 
hood is perpetuated in the habits of advancing years. In fact, 
hardly any faculty is more neglected in our systems of education 
than the faculty of observation ; certainly for no one of the facul- 
ties of children are less provisions made for culture and training. 

Poor Observers. — The result of this neglect is that the people 
of the present day are poor observers. Indeed, we perceive dis- 
tinctly comparatively few of the facts and phenomena of the 
natural world around us. Nature spreads out her facts before us 
in rich profusion, but we close our eyes to them or turn away from 
them : she places them under our feet, and we stumble over them 
or tread them in the dust unobserved. Having eyes we see not 
and ears we hear not, the interesting facts with which nature has 
surrounded us. fc Indeed, in respect to our observation of the things 
of the natural world, it may be truly said of us as teachers, as 
Christ said of the Pharisees, that we. are " blind guides." 

Examples of the lack of observational power are to be found 
among all classes of persons. How large a number of young 
people to-day cannot explain the difference between an oak and a 
beech, or distinguish between granite and marble. Very few 

(115) 



116 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

persons can tell the difference between the number of legs of a fly 
and of a spider ; and I have known farmers' boys and girls who 
could not tell whether the ears of a cow are in front of her horns, 
above her horns, below her horns, or behind her horns ! 

Modern Education. — Modern education tends to the neglect 
of the culture of the perceptive powers. In ancient times peo- 
ple studied nature much more than at present. Being without 
books, they were compelled to depend upon their eyes and ears 
for knowledge ; and this made the senses active, searching, and 
exact. At the present day, we study books for a knowledge of 
external things ; and we study them too much or too exclusively, 
and thus neglect the cultivation of the senses. We get our knowl- 
edge of the material world second-hand, instead of fresh from the 
open pages of the book of nature. Is it not a great mistake to 
spend so much time in school and yet not know the difference 
between the leaf of a beech and of an oak ; or not be able to dis- 
tinguish between specimens of marble, quartz, and granite ? 

The Educated. — The neglect of the culture of the perceptive 
powers is shown by the scholars of the present times. Very few 
educated men are good observers ; indeed, the most of them are 
sadly deficient in this respect. This arises from the fact that 
their perceptive powers were not trained in youth. They were 
taught to think and remember ; but they were not taught to use 
their eyes and ears. In modern education, books are used too 
much like spectacles, and the result is a blunting of the natural 
powers of perception. In this respect, one is reminded of the 
French students in the time of Napoleon who, in order to escape 
being drafted into the army, used spectacles to make themselves 
near-sighted. Our scholars have become near-sighted, like these 
students, by the habit of looking at nature through the printed 
page. 

The Uneducated. — As illustrative of the same fact, it may be 
remarked that the uneducated, as a rule, are better observers than 
the educated. Having to depend for knowledge largely upon 
their senses, they acquire the habit of accurate observation. They 



THE CULTURE OF PERCEPTION". 117 

may not always be able to read books, but they learn to read the 
open volume of nature with an accurate eye and a sympathetic 
heart. The untutored Indian will trace his way through the 
forest by the moss on the trees, pursue his escaped captive by the 
broken twigs or the displaced leaves, and learn the presence of 
his enemies or friends by the faintest film of smoke against the 
sky. Mrs. Gage tells of the eld negress who predicted a storm 
on a fair morning by " the talking of the winds and waves over 
there," and of the drenching shower in which the young people 
were caught, who, thinking they knew better than an old colored 
woman, did not heed her advice to remain at home. 

II. Importance of Culture. — The importance of the culture 
of the perceptive powers will hardly be questioned. Still, a few 
remarks on the subject may be of service in impressing the idea 
of its value on the mind of the teacher, and induce him to make 
some special provisions for such culture in the instruction of the 
school. 

Basis of Knowledge.— Perception, we remark first, is the 
basis of common knowledge. The most of our ordinary knowl- 
edge consists of facts which are obtained through the senses. 
These facts constitute the fabric of our common thought and con- 
versation. We talk of pei'sons, places, and things which we have 
noticed— knowledge which we have derived through perception. 
Our powers of description depend largely upon our powers of 
observation, for in order to describe well we must observe mi- 
nutely and accurately. The man of large and accurate powers of 
observation is usually the man of interesting facts and incidents, 
and makes the congenial companion or entertaining talker. 

Basis of Science. — Perception is also the basis of science, that 
is, of the physical sciences. These sciences begin in facts, and 
rise to their classification, the causes which produce them, and the 
laws which govern them. The facts of these sciences are given 
by perception; thought takes these facts, and weaves them into 
the fabric of science. Thought is the architect in the domain of 
science: facts are the stones and bricks with which it works. 



118 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Thought takes this material and builds up the temple of knowl- 
edge, lofty, beautiful, and grand. 

The great scientist must be a close and accurate observer. 
Linnaeus must have studied the world of facts with the keenest 
perception to have been able to form his artificial system of classi- 
fication. Cuvier was as searching in his vision as he was far- 
reaching in his power of grand generalization. To classify the 
turtles of North America, Agassiz gave days and nights to the 
minutest dissections and comparisons. The most careful and 
thorough observations are required to reach the conclusions of 
modern physics and astronomy. The advance of modern science 
is largely due to the accuracy of the observer. 

Use in Literature. — Careful observation is of great value 
even in literature. Nearly all the great writers have been close 
observers of nature. Homer shows a sympathetic love of the 
natural world, and his pages glow with beauties drawn from his 
observation. Shakspeare must have read the fields around Strat- 
ford with a loving and searching eye for their beauties, for his 
verse breathes of the freshness of the field and the forest. The 
streams ripple through his lines, the flowers blush with beauty in 
his similes, and the moonlight falls asleep upon fragrant banks 
beneath the golden stars above, while " soft stillness and the night 
become the touches of sweet harmony." Chancer, Cowper, 
Thomson, Burns, Scott, and Dickens, were all close observers of 
nature; and their pages are redolent with the breath of the ver- 
nal landscape. If England should be sunk beneath the sea, 
English scenery would still live in the pages of her immortal 
writers. 

Use to the Poet and Orator. — The power of perception is of 
great value also to the poet and orator. This thought may be 
emphasized by the following quotation from Mr. Emerson : " The 
poet, the orator, bred in the woods, whose senses have been 
nurtured by their fair and appeasing changes, year after year, 
without design or heed, shall not lose their lessons in the roar of 
cities and the broil of politics. Long hereafter, amid agitation 



THE CULTURE OF PERCEPTION. 119 

and terror in national councils, these solemn images shall reap- 
pear in their morning lustre, as fit symbols for the language of 
the hour. At the call of a noble sentiment, again the woods 
wa»ve, the pines murmur, the river rolls and shines, and the cat- 
tle low upon the mountains, putting the spells of persuasion, the 
keys of power, into his hands." 

Facts of Interest. — We should cultivate the perceptive powers 
for the interest of the facts which they afford. Us. The objects of 
the material world are full of interest and beauty. Nature pre- 
sents herself as a book to be read; the "Book of Nature" is no 
unmeaning metaphor. It contains many a vivid page as interest- 
ing to us as a romance. In the spring-time, it is a volume bound, 
in green and gold; in summer it presents many a gorgeous page 
to our raptured vision; while the sere and yellow leaves of 
autumn and the snowy pages of winter teach a never-to-be-for- 
gotten lesson. It is a book too that can always be read with 
interest by those who have learned its alphabet. How full of 
interest is Nature's stony book, whose pages are the everlasting 
rocks ! How delightful is Nature's starry book, whose pages are 
glittering with the jewels of the sky! 

The Book of Nature is no poetic fiction. Longfellow, in his 
tribute to Agassiz, says, 

' ' Then Nature, the old nurse, took 
The boy upon her kuee, 
Saying, ' Here is a story book 

Thy Father hath written for thee !' " 

And he read from out the book many a tale of divine wisdom 
which we may noAV read in his translation of the divine symbols. 
The interest of this grand old volume may be seen in every 
department of nature ; in the shining crystals, the blooming 
flowers, the buzzing insects, etc. ; and it is the teacher's duty to 
open the eyes of the pupils to the interesting pages of this book, 
and teach them to read the beautiful lesson there recorded. 

III. Differences of Perceptive Power. — There is a 
marked difference in the perceptive powers of different indi- 



120 • MENTAL SCIENCE. 

viduals, as in the other powers of the mind. Some persons are 
much closer observers than others. Two persons will look at the 
same object, and one can tell you many things in respect to it 
that escaped the notice of the other. This difference appears in 
many facts, and is strikingly illustrated in the finding of four- 
leaved clovers. There are persons who have never been able to 
find a single specimen of clover with four leaves, while others 
will go out in the yard and cull them by the handful. 

Difference Due to Nature. — Much of this difference in per- 
ceptive power is due to nature; minds naturally differ in the 
power of observation as in their other faculties. There seem to 
be two distinct classes of minds — the perceptive mind and the 
reflective mind. The perceptive mind operates objectively; 
the reflective mind seems to bend inward and act subjectively. 
One is attracted by objects and is interested in things ; the other 
lingers among its ideas and is most interested in thoughts. 

Difference Due to Culture. — Much of this difference, how- 
ever, is due to culture. The senses become sharpened by use. 
This is illustrated by men who are proficient in natural science. 
Hugh Miller could stand by the rocky pages of his native Scot- 
land, and read them as accurately as we can read a book. Agas- 
siz would bring a grasshopper before his class and point out 
scores of interesting things about it, holding the attention of his 
audience as if he were reading from the pages of a romance. 
The same fact is also illustrated by the description of various 
things in which a person has had some interest. Thus girls will 
describe articles of dress much more minutely than boys ; while 
the latter excel in describing such objects as horses. A trained 
detective becomes Argus-eyed in the routine of his profession. 

IV. The Time for Culture. — Youth is the time for the 
culture of the perceptive powers. In youth all the senses are un- 
usually active. Life seems, as it were, to begin in the senses. 
Children desire to see, to hear, to feel, to handle, to examine. 
This activity of the senses is generally known as curiosity ; and 
children are often criticised for their curiosity. Parents often 



THE CULTURE OF PERCEPTION.. 121 

misunderstand this spirit, and regard it as mischief. It is not 
mischief, however, in any bad sense ; it is merely the desire for 
knowledge. Little children tumble things upside down, rum- 
mage in bureau drawers, and do many other things annoying 
to their parents ; but it should be remembered that this is done 
in the pursuit of knowledge. The child is acquiring its educa- 
tion, and is learning faster than when it goes to school or college. 

Duty of Teachers.' — Parents and teachers should gratify this 
curiosity in children. It is the voice of nature and should be 
heeded. Teachers could often sit at the feet of nature and learn 
lessons of her in the education of the young. Children are often 
kept in school, studying the dry pages of text-books, when they 
should be out conning the more attractive pages on which the 
hand of nature has written her countless lessons of interest and 
beauty. The ability to read the book of nature correctly is 
worth more to many persons than the power to peruse the pages 
of a school reader. A most valuable part of education consists 
in that training which gives the power of wresting from nature 
her stores of knowledge. The power to acquire for ourselves, as 
well as to understand and remember what has been acquired, is 
one of the grand ends of culture. 

V. Methods of Culture. — Having spoken of the import- 
ance and neglect of the culture of the perceptive powers, we 
shall' now give a few directions in respect to the methods by 
which these powers may be cultivated. The subject is a broad 
one, and would require a volume to give it adequate develop- 
ment. Only a few general statements can be made in this place. 

Cultivated by Exercise. — The perceptive powers can be cul- 
tivated by exercise. Exercise is the great law of culture. This 
law is universal ; all development comes from exercise. The law 
applies to both body and mind. The arm of the laborer and the 
leg of the pedestrian become strong by use. Neglect exercise 
and we lose power, either mental' or physical. Put the arm in a 
sling, and it becomes weak ; let the mind be inactive, and it be- 
comes imbecile and incapable of exertion. 
6 



122 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Illustration. — To train the perceptive powers, therefore, they 
must be exercised. By exercise the eye of the sailor perceives a 
vessel in the far distant horizon which a landsman can hardly 
see with a spy-glass. A watchmaker can detect a slight injury 
to the delicate works of the watch, while another would be un- 
able to see anything wrong with it. Persons whose business it is 
to test the qualities of teas by tasting them become so skillful 
that they can distinguish hundreds of varieties. It is said that 
the tasters of liquors become so expert that they can tell where 
the grapes grew out of which the wines or brandies were made. 
The reading of the blind with their raised letters also illustrates 
what a delicacy can be acquired by the sense of touch. 

Should be Judicious. — This exercise should be judicious in 
kind and quantity. The objects observed should be adapted to 
the age and capacity of the pupils. They should be such as to 
attract the attention and please and interest the mind. The 
mind should not be overtaxed nor wearied in the work ; too 
much exercise may blunt the senses instead of improving them. 
By using the fingers with lack of care, the blind .may impair the 
delicacy of the finger-tips in reading the raised letters. The 
tasters of liquors must be temperate men to preserve that nice 
sense by which they distinguish the fine shades of difference be- 
tween the various brands of the importers. 

Obserre with Attention. — We should acquire the habit of 
observing with attention. Many persons look at objects with a 
careless, inattentive eye. We should guard against the habit of 
careless looking. We should fix the mind upon the object before 
us; we should concentrate the attention upon that at which we 
are looking. Attention, in respect to perception, has been com- 
pared to a burning-glass: hold the sun-glass between the sun and 
a board, and the concentrated rays will burn a hole through the 
latter. So attention concentrates the rays of perceptive power 
and enables the mind to penetrate below the surface of things. 

Illustration. — The difference between attentive and inatten- 
tive observation is readily illustrated by the habits of indi- 



THE CULTURE OF PERCEPTION. 123 

viduals. JPeople observe witli most attention those things in 
which they have the most interest. Some people coming from 
church, can tell you the text, the divisions of the sermon, and 
are able to repeat a portion of the discourse. Others can tell 
you who were at church, what, dress or bonnet Mrs. Smith wore, 
and who had on something in the newest style or fashion. The 
story of the lost camel and the dervish, found in many of our 
school readers, presents a striking illustration of attentive ob- 
servation. 

Observe Minutely. — To train the powers of observation we 
should practice observing minutely. We should analyze the ob- 
jects which we look at into their parts, and notice these parts. 
Objects present themselves to us as wholes; our definite knowl- 
edge of them is gained by analysis, by separating tffem into the 
elements which compose them. We should therefore give atten- 
tion to the details of whatever we are considering; and thus cul- 
tivate the habit of observing with minuteness. 

Illustration. — A few illustrations of minute observation may 
serve to impress what is meant. We all recognize the faces of 
our friends; but how few of us can describe them. Some per- 
sons, however, after meeting a man but a single time, will tell the 
color of the hair, the color of the eyes, the side on which the hair 
is parted, the peculiarities of mouth, nose, cheek, etc., describing 
each feature and peculiarity with minuteness. The same is true 
in respect to the dress of ladies and gentlemen. It is related of a 
teacher that if, when hearing a class, some one rapped at the 
door, he would look up as the visitor entered and from a single 
glance could tell his appearance and dress, the kind of hat he 
wore, kind of neck-tie, collar, vest, coat, shoes, etc. The skillful 
banker, also, in counting money with wondrous rapidity, w ill 
detect and throw from his pile of bills the counterfeits which, to 
the ordinary eye, seem to be without spot or blemish. 

Object Lessons. — The perceptive powers are cultivated by 
means of Object Lessons. The design of object lessons is twofold, 
— culture and knowledge. The primary object, however, is the 



124 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

culture of the senses. The method of imparting this culture is to 
teach, not with books, but with the real objects, with things which 
pupils can see and handle for themselves. We should require 
pupils to discover facts for themselves. There should be an 
"observation class" in every school. In this way pupils may be 
taught to observe the facts of nature and acquire the power of 
quick and accurate perception. 

By Drawing. — The art of Drawing is well adapted to give 
culture to the perceptive powers. This art requires us to look 
closely at objects, to examine them in detail, and to acquire dis- 
tinct and definite ideas of them. Thus, let a person who has not 
had any practice in drawing attempt to outline a state or country 
of which he thinks he has a very correct idea, and he will realize 
how much more closely he must examine it than he has done in 
the ordinary study of geography. So, in di awing a leaf of the 
maple or oak or beech, one will be surprised at the increased 
accuracy of observation required. The study of drawing is there- 
fore adapted to train to habits of close and minute observation. 

By Natural History.* — The study of Natural History will 
also give culture to the power of perception. This is evident from 
the nature of these sciences. They deal with facts, and in study- 
ing them we must observe these facts for ourselves. To become 
skilled in these sciences it is necessary to examine closely plants, 
animals, and minerals, to become familiar with their form, color, 
structure, peculiarities, etc. This gives constant exercise to the 
perceptive faculties, and secures the habit of careful and attentive 
observation. In proof of the value of these studies, Ave find that 
naturalists are close and minute observers. Agassiz, as already 
stated, would take a grasshopper and discourse for hours on the 
beauties and wonders of its structure and habits; and Hugh 
Miller could read the history of creation in the hieroglyphics of 
nature found in the Old Red Sandstone of Scotland. 

Form idas for Observation. — The perceptive powers, when 
naturally poor, may be aided by a formula for observation. By 
a formula for observation is meant a systematic outline or ar- 



THE CULTURE OF PERCEPTION. 



125 



rangement of things which are worth observing. Such a formula 
would be of great value to one who does not observe closely. It 
suggests to him what he should look at and examine carefully, 
and will enable him to remember what he has seen. A formula 
similar to the following is suggested for a traveller : 



Formula for a 
Traveller. 



1. Physical Features 



The People. 



3. The Buildings. 



1. Land and Water. 

2. Animals. 

3. Plants. 

[ 4. Minerals. 

1. Looks. 

2. Language. 

3. Dress. 

4. Manners. 

5. Morals. 

6. Education. 

7. Employment. 

(1. Dwellings. 
2. Churches. 
3. School-houses. 
4. Public Buildings. 



Special Lessons. — In our schools there should be special 
lessons arranged to give culture to all the senses. Such lessons 
come appropriately under the head of Object Lessons. - Every 
public school should be furnished with objects suitable to give 
such instruction and culture; and teachers should not neglect so 
important a duty. 

Sense of Touch. — The sense of touch should be trained so as 
to detect the texture of cloth, the quality of flour, the shape of 
objects, etc. Great skill can be obtained in this way. The ex- 
perienced merchant can tell the quality of goods by his delicate 
touch, and the miller knows the quality of his flour by feeling it. 
The sense of muscular resistance, in estimating the weight of ob- 
jects, should also be cultivated. With a little practice, the 
weight of books, chairs, and other objects, even to the fraction 
of an ounce, can be determined by "hefting them." 

Sense of Sif/ht. — The sense of sight should also receive care- 
ful training. First, the pupil should be trained to distinguish 
all the primary and secondary colors; and afterwards he should 
be drilled on their different shades and tints. Exercises in the 



12 G MENTAL SCIENCE. 

harmony of colors, and their application to dress, the furnishing 
of rooms, etc., would be of great value to the student. Much 
may be done in this way to sharpen the eye, and increase the 
delicacy and accuracy of vision. The teacher should find out all 
who are color-blind, either partly or totally, and make an effort 
to remedy this defect. The weight of objects, horses, cattle, and 
even of persons, can be told within a few pounds by the sight 
when it is properly trained. 

Sense of Hearing. — The sense of hearing should also receive 
training. The pupil should be exercised upon the sounds of the 
musical scale until the various skips can be readily told. The 
practice of naming the notes struck on an organ or piano is also 
a good drill. Pupils should be encouraged to listen to the songs 
of birds, so that they can distinguish one from another and de- 
scribe them. Every bird of the forest or meadow should be 
known by its song. The noises of insects also afford a good sub- 
ject for the exercise of hearing. Every person should be familiar 
with a large list of words which indicate the various sounds, and 
have clear ideas of the differences of these sounds. 

Smell and Taste. — It might be well also to give some culture 
to the grosser senses of smell and taste. It would be well if each 
person was familiar with the principal odors so that he could de- 
tect and name them. In some kinds of business, such skill is in- 
valuable. A refined sensibility in respect to perfumes is also of 
value in cultivated society. The ability to detect different flavors 
is also not unworthy of some general culture. In certain kinds 
of business, as the selection of teas, it becomes a necessity. 

Conclusion. — In conclusion it is suggested that teachers 
should appreciate the value of the culture of the perceptive 
powers, and endeavor to do something to afford this culture. 
Let it be remembered that by training the powers of observation 
of pupils we lead them to acquire definite idea.s of things, enable 
them to store their minds with fresh and interesting knowledge, 
lay the foundation for literary or business success, and thus do 
much to enhance their happiness in life and add to the sum of 
human knowledge. 



THE MEMORY. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE NATURE OF THE MEMORY. 

THE Memory is that faculty of the mind by which we retain 
and recall knowledge. It is the power by which we are en- 
abled to hold fast to our mental acquisitions and recall them to 
mind when we wish to use them. The power of holding knowl- 
edge is called Retention ; the power of reproducing knowledge is 
called Recollection. 

The Term, Memory. — The term Memory is derived from the 
Latin memor, mindful. It is used by some writers as identical 
with retention ; thus they speak of a strong memory and a tardy 
recollection. This distinction in the use of the term, however, is 
not correct; the term memory is properly used to embrace the 
entire faculty of retaining and recalling. 

Elements of Memor y. — As thus defined, the Memory seems 
to embrace but two elements ; those of retention and recollection. 
There are, however, two other elements which enter into an act 
of memory; namely, representation and recognition. The mind 
not only retains and recalls knowledge, but it presents it in the 
form of pictures and recognizes it as a part of its past experi- 
ence. There are thus four elements HKi the faculty of Memory ; 
Retention, Recollection, Representation, and Recognition. 

Elements Distinguished. — These four elements, though 
usually united in a complete act of the memory, are both logic- 
ally and psychologically distinguished. It is one act or power 
of the mind to retain knowledge, another to call it up out of un- 

(127) 



128 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

consciousness, another to hold it in the mind in the form of vivid 
pictures, and still another to recognize the object pictured as a 
matter of previous experience. The closest relation seems to 
exist between recollection and representation ; indeed, it may be 
asked whether what is recalled is not necessarily represented. 
It is manifest, however, that the capacity or energy to recall is 
no*t identical with the power by which we represent what is re- 
called. All the four elements, though intimately related, pre- 
sent distinct mental acts and indicate distinct mental capacities 
or energies. 

Different Views of Memory. — Some writers treat the entire 
subject under the head of Representation, regarding retention 
and recollection, not as elements of the faculty of Memory, but 
merely as conditions of representation. These writers usually 
regard the representative element as performing two offices — the 
representing of both the old and the new — and thus as embrac- 
ing the memory and the imagination. Others, holding the same 
general view, ignore retention even as a condition of recollection 
or representation. Others, again, seem to regard mental repro- 
duction as the principal element in the faculty, and refer to repre- 
sentation and recognition as merely incidental to it. The correct 
view seems to be to give each one of the four elements a distinct 
place in the faculty. 

Hamilton's View. — Sir William Hamilton regards the first 
three elements as so entirely distinct that he treats them as dis- 
tinct faculties, naming them the Conservative, the Reproductive, 
and the Representative powers. The fourth element, that of 
recognition, seems to have escaped his notice, as he does not dis- 
cuss it nor refer to it. Under the Representative power, he in- 
cludes the power of forming exact transcripts of past experience, 
and also the power of representing the new, or the Imagination. 

The Elements of Memory. 
The Memory, as Ave have explained, embraces four distinct 
elements — Retention, Recollection, Representation, and Recogni- 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. 129 

tion. We now proceed to discuss each one of these elements in 
detail. 

I. Retention. — .Retention is the power by which we retain 
knowledge. It holds fast to that which we have acquired, and 
prevents its escaping from the mind. It is a conservative ele- 
ment ; it conserves or preserves knowledge, not in but out of 
consciousness. Sir- William Hamilton calls it the Conservative 
power of the mind, and treats it as a distinct faculty, coordinate 
with Perception, Recollection, etc. 

To What Compared. — The element of retention may be com- 
pared to a mental storehouse in which we store away our knowl- 
edge until we wish to use it. It has also been compared to a 
treasury in which we place our ideas and thoughts for preserva- 
tion. The ancient writers compared it to a tablet on which 
characters were stamped or engraved. Gassendi likens it to a 
piece of cloth or paper which is capable of receiving numerous 
folds, and retains those longest in which it has been oftenest laid. 
These comparisons, however, are merely illustrations of the 
faculty, and do not philosophically explain it. 

Method of Retaining. — How knowledge is retained in the 
mind, it is difficult, if not impossible, to explain. Yet that it 
should not be retained, is equally difficult to understand. Ham- 
ilton says that " the problem most difficult of solution is not how 
a mental activity endures, but how it vanishes." It may be said 
that our ideas are not retained in the sense in which a hook re- 
tains a hat or coat ready to be taken down when wanted. We are 
not to conceive the mind to be a convenient receptacle in which 
all manner of thoughts and feelings may be stored away, like 
guns in an armory, or old clothes in the clothes-press. What we 
mean by the mind being retentive is the power by which it pre- 
vents knowledge from vanishing away so that it may reproduce 
what it has once known. 

Objections to Retention. — Some authors discard the element 
of retention, considering the memory merely as a reproducing 
power. The reason for this view is that whatever energy the 
6* 



130 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

mind possesses in respect to retaining knowledge, it exercises, not 
in but out of consciousness. Even Sir William Hamilton, who 
raises the element into the importance of a distinct faculty, says, 
" Retention is a condition of representation ; and it is only by an 
extension of the term that it can be called a faculty, that is, an 
active power." " It is more a passive resistance than an energy, 
and ought, therefore, perhaps to receive rather the appellation of 
a capacity." Dr. Porter says that the doctrine of a retentive 
faculty is purely figurative. 

Heasons for Retention. — Notwithstanding these views, there 
seem to be good reasons for regarding the mind as possessing the 
power to retain knowledge, and thus as embracing an element 
of retention. In favor of this view several considerations 
will be presented. First, the phenomenon of retention is natural, 
on the ground of the self-energy of the mind. The possibility of 
the conservation of the activities of the mind is involved in the 
conception of the power of self-activity. 

Second, the power to retain is implied in the power to recall. 
If there were no power to hold knowledge, how could there be 
any reproduction of knowledge? If nothing were retained in the 
mind, there would be nothing to recall. I cannot recall that 
which was never in the mind. Third, the power to retain is 
implied in the common expression "commit to memory." We 
commit our ideas and thoughts to something that takes charge of 

o o o 

and preserves them. 

Fourth, consciousness shows that the operation of trying to fix 
a thing in the mind and the recalling of it are quite different. 
The effort to commit is not the same as the effort to recall. In 
one case we seem to work from without inward ; in the other 
from within outward. Fifth, this distinction is sustained by 
many eminent philosophers. Plato considered the memory 
merely as the faculty of conservation. Aristotle distinguished 
memory as the faculty of reproduction. Sir William Hamilton 
regards it as a distinct faculty coordinate with recollection. And 
many of those philosophers who discard it in their formal state- 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. 131 

ments, unconsciously acknowledge its existence by the use of such 
expressions as a " tenacious memory," etc. 

Hamilton's Argument. — Hamilton's argument in favor of 
retention -will be briefly stated. We are conscious of certain 
cognitions as acquired, and we are conscious of these cognitions 
as resuscitated. That in the interval, when out of conscious- 
ness, these cognitions do continue to> subsist, is an hypothesis 
which we are not only warranted but necessitated to establish. 
The sphere of our conscious modification is only a small circle in 
the centre of a far wider sphere of action and passion. Thus in 
sight we may not be conscious of all the minute parts of an ob- 
ject, but these together make up the object of vision. In hear- 
ing, the noise of each wave may not be heard, but the sum of 
these uuheard noises makes up the murmur of the sea of which 
we are conscious. Thus there are latent modifications of con- 
sciousness of which Ave are unconscious. 

Physiological Explanations. — Some of the older writers 
endeavored to explain the, phenomena of retention by various 
physiological hypotheses, as for example, the hypotheses of per- 
manent material impressions on the brain, or of permanent dis- 
position in the nervous fibres to repeat the same oscillatory 
movements, or of particular organs for the different functions of 
memory, or of particular parts of the brain as repositories of the 
various classes of ideas, or of a particular fibre as the instrument 
of every several notion. But all these suppositions are useless, 
and show an ignorance of the true nature of the mind. The act 
of retention is a psychical and not a physiological one, and is due 
to the inherent energy of the self-active spirit. 

II. Recollection. — Recollection is the power by which we 
recall knowledge. It brings knowledge, which has been lying 
dormant in the mind, into consciousness, and enables us to re- 
know what we have previously experienced. Hamilton calls, it 
a resuscitative power ; it resuscitates or brings to life that which 
seems to lie buried in unconsciousness. Knowledge lies. sleeping, 
as it were, in the tomb of unconsciousness; Recollection awakens 
it and calls it forth into life. 



132 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Illustration. — The action of the Recollection can be readily il- 
lustrated. Thus a word, a strain of music, the face of a friend, 
which I do not uoav .think of, may be recalled to mind so that I 
have a vivid conception of them. The word Niagara is spoken, 
and lo, before my mind rises a picture of the grand cataract — 
the rushing torrent, the deep plunge of water, the deafening 
roar, the cloud of mist rising out of and hanging over the abyss, 
and the graceful rainbow crowning all with its glorious arch of 
beauty. 

Relation to Retention. — The relation of the two elements, 
Retention and Recollection, may be readily seen. Retention 
holds knowledge ; Recollection brings it forth out of unconscious- 
ness into consciousness. Retention may be compared to a store- 
house in which knowledge is placed for safe-keeping ; and Recol- 
lection to an errand-boy that is sent in to bring out what is 
needed. Retention may be likened to a well in which are pre- 
served the streams of knowledge which flow therein ; and Recol- 
lection to the bucket which is let down to bring up the knowl- 
edge as we wish to use it. The former is a condition for the 
latter; the latter is the complement of the former. 

Unequal in Degree. — Retention and Recollection seldom 
exist in equal degrees in the same mind. This difference is due 
partly to nature and partly to culture. Some minds are quick 
and ready ; what they know seems to be always at the surface, 
or, as we say, " on the end of the tongue." Other minds are slow 
to recall what they know, and usually reproduce the past with 
conscious effort. The ready memory is often not very tenacious, 
while the slow memory is usually strong in its hold on its facts. 
The pupil that commits a lesson readily may forget it in a day 
or two ; the student who acquires with labor often retains much 
longer. "Easy come, easy go," we often find to be as true of 
knowledge as of money. The study of facts, committing of 
verbal lessons, frequent use of knowledge in conversation — all 
these tend to increase the readiness of the memory. The neglect 
of facts, lack of conversation, the study of principles, etc., tend 
to produce tardiness of the memory. 



THE NATUEE OF MEMORY. 133 

Voluntary and Involuntary. — Recollection operates both 
involuntarily and voluntarily. One thought may succeed, another 
without any voluntary purpose on the part of the person ; every 
one is familiar with the train of thought in which ideas and 
images seem to chase one another through the mind. Our 
thoughts may also be called out of unconsciousness by a direct 
and intentional effort of the will. The former is called invol- 
untary or spontaneous recollection ; the latter has been called by 
some writers reminiscence, or recollection proper. 

Possibility of Recalling. — The possibility of voluntary re- 
collection has been questioned. How can we, it is asked, seek in 
the memory for, or try to recall, that of which we have no re- 
collection? Does not the fact that we will to recall anything 
imply that Ave have already remembered what we wish to remem- 
ber? This has been regarded as a philosophical puzzle; but it is 
so only to the philosopher who rejects the element of retention. 
The simple fact is that we are. conscious of having acquired some- 
thing which is not now in consciousness, but which we are trying 
to recall out of unconsciousness into consciousness. Thus, suppose 
I have for the moment forgotten a name, and try to recall it ; the 
effort to recall implies that I am conscious that I have retained 
the name and believe that I can recall it. 

III. Representation. — In an act of memory we not only 
retain and recall, but there is also a representation of that which 
we recall. The object or event stands out before the mind in the 
form of an image or picture, or in some mental product, corres- 
ponding to the original experience. The power that thus repre- 
sents knowledge is called the . representative element of the 
memory. 

Illustration. — To illustrate this element, suppose I recall my 
boyhood's home. I see it as clearly in my " mind's eye " as I did 
when a boy with the eye of sense. It stands before my mind as 
a picture, — its yard, garden, orchard, and fields, the old barn with 
its hay-mow, stables, etc. I see it all again as distinctly as if I 
.were at the spot looking upon it, — father, mother, sister, brother, 



134 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

the companions of my youth, and the sports of childhood, — all 
these pass before my mental vision like the pictures in a pano- 
rama. 

Relation to Recollection.- — The act of representation, though 
closely related to, is distinct from the act of recollection. The 
one is a drawing out process, a recalling something out of uncon- 
sciousness into consciousness ; the other is a representation of that 
which is recalled. Recollection is a condition of representation; 
we must first recall before we can represent. That which is 
represented was first retained by the conservative energy of the 
mind ; it was then recalled out of consciousness by the reproduc- 
tive power; the elements thus recalled are constructed into a 
picture or into some form corresponding to the original cognition. 
It is not assumed that knowledge is retained as a picture, and re- 
stored as a picture ; but that it is recreated in the form of a pic- 
ture or some other mental product when it is recalled. 

Relation to Imagination. — The representative element gives 
us an exact transcript of the past. In this respect it differs from 
Imagination, which combines our mental images of the past into 
new products. Sir Wm. Hamilton regards the representative 
element in memory and imagination as the same power differently 
applied. He treats it as a distinct faculty with the two offices, — 
that of representing the actual and also the ideal. The latter, in 
connection with comparison, he regards as the power which 
writers call the Imagination. The truth is, the memory and the 
imagination both employ a representative element; one repre- 
sents the actual, the other the ideal. 

Not Restricted to Pictures. — The representative element in 
memory is not restricted to the representation of pictures. It em- 
braces the entire domain of mental activity. The products of all 
the senses, indeed every product of the mind, may be recalled and 
represented. Thus, we can conceive of a sound, as well as an object 
of sight. The music we have heard comes floating through the 
mind as distinctly as if we were at present listening to it. We 
may also conceive of a feeling, a flavor, a perfume, etc., which 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. 135 

have been objects of past experience. We may also recall and 
represent an abstract or general idea, a thought, a process of 
reasoning, etc. Every mental product that may be retained and 
recalled, may be represented, that is, may be re-conceived. Every 
conception which the mind forms of a past experience or former 
mental product is regarded as due to the representative element 
of the memory. 

The Object of Representation. — What is the object given in 
the act of representation ? What is the nature of that which is 
represented ? A general remark has already been made on this 
subject; but to give a clear and definite conception of it, we shall 
consider the matter somewhat in detail. 

A Mental Object. — The object given in representation is a men- 
tal object. It is not a real object which we remember, but some- 
thing of the mind's own creation. It is thus a mental and not. a 
material object that is the product of the representative power. 
It is a product of the mind, and has a psychological, but not a 
material existence ; it exists in and for the soul alone. As such, 
it is not only a product of the mind, but an object for the mind to 
contemplate and recognize. 

A New Object. — The object given in representation is a new 
object. It is not an old experience repeated, but a new represen- 
tation of an old experience. The mental object given in represen- 
tation is neither a material object nor an old percept of an object ; 
but a new mental product of a transcript more or less exact of 
the object or percept. It is a re-creation or reproduction of some- 
thing we have experienced before; but not the same identical 
experience. 

Experience of Sense. — The representative power may operate in 
the domain of each one of the senses. Its most vivid conceptions 
are those of sight, where the product is in the form of a picture 
with distinct outline, color, etc. But it may also represent a 
sound, as the note of a bird, the voice of a friend, or a remem- 
bered strain of music. It can also represent a flavor, a fragrance, 
the sensation of warmth or cold, etc. Though the primary idea 



136 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

of representation is that of images, yet in a larger sense the re- 
membered product of every sense is a representation. 

Other Products. — The representative power operates in the do- 
main of the understanding also. Our ideas and thoughts are nut 
only recalled, but are also held up before the mind in distinct 
conceptions. In the larger sense of the term, both abstract and 
general ideas are represented; so also are truths, judgments, 
trains of reasoning, etc., which may be recalled to mind. In the 
same sense, the higher intuitive ideas and truths, the emotions 
and volitions, are held before the mind by this element of the 
memory. As we have before stated, every product of the mind, 
every object of consciousness that is recalled, may be represented 
in a form corresponding to the primary experience. 

An Intellectual Object. — The mental object in representation is 
an intellectual object. Whatever is recalled and represented is thus 
recreated by an act of the intellect — whether it be an idea, an emo- 
tion, or a volition. We can recall and represent an act of the 
intellect, or of the sensibilities, or of the will; each of these is an 
experience originally known by consciousness, and as such may 
be recalled and represented to the mind ; but in this representa- 
tion there is an intellectual act, and the representation before the 
mind of the emotion or volition is itself an intellectual product. 
The product of representation is thus intellectual in its nature. 
A feeling or volition is converted into a product of the intellect 
in the act of its being recalled and represented. 

IV. Recognition. — The three elements of the memory now 
considered, provide for the retaining, the recalling, and the repre- 
senting of past experience. An act of memory is not completed, 
however, until the image, or mental product, recalled and repre- 
sented, is recognized as pertaining to our past experience. The 
mind not only recalls and represents its products ; but it knows 
them as transcripts or representations of some former act or affec- 
tion of consciousness. It recognizes them as things or representa- 
tions of things it has known before; and this act of recognition 
completes an act of memory. 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. 137 

An Act of Knowledge. — The act of recognition is an act of 
knowledge; it is a knowing of the mental object represented. 
Indeed, there is a kind of dual act of knowing. That which is 
recalled and represented is known, not only in itself as a mental 
product, but also in relation to my experience at some previous 
time. I know the thing that is before my mind, and know it also 
as a something of previous cognition. Thus, in recalling a per- 
son or a tree, I not only know them as objects, but know them 
also as objects previously perceived by me. The same is true of a 
mental act or a feeling. I cognize them as replaced in thought, 
and I also cognize them as a previous experience of conscious- 
ness. 

Importance of Recognition. — The importance of this act of 
recognition will be readily seen. Without it we could not distin- 
guish between the products of memory and imagination. Images 
of my previous perceptions may arise out of the background of 
the past, picture after picture may be represented on the mental 
canvas ; how am I to know whether they are products of memory 
or creations of the imagination ? Only as I recognize them as facts 
of past experience. The landscape before my mind is recognized 
as one which I previously saw ; it is a product of memory. The 
ideal image before my mind is not recognized as a fact of my 
past experience; it is a product of imagination. The act of 
recognition is thus the crowning act of memory. Indeed, it is not 
memory in its full and complete sense until the object recalled is 
recognized and receives the stamp of previous experience. 

A Subjective Element. — The element of recognition adds the 
element of self to the mental object. It links the subjective ele- 
ment to the objective. Besides the cognition of a mental image 
or product, there is the cognition of ourselves as related to it in 
time and place. We not only know the object as recalled, but 
we know ourselves as perceiving that of which it is a copy, 
and the circumstances under which it was originally perceived. 
All the circumstances may not be known; but usually several of 
them are distinctly recalled, and we know ourselves as making 
the original cognition in these circumstances. 



118 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Operates With Objects. — The element of recognition operates 
with respect to a new percept of an old object, as well as with a 
recalled representation of it. Thus a thing seen or heard the 
second time is recognized as having been seen or heard before. 
The man I meet to-day I recognize as the man I met yesterday ; 
and the melody I hear to-day is known to be the same that I 
heard a week ago at the opera. A repeated perception of an 
object is thus recognized, as well as a mental representation of 
the perception of the object. 

Varies In Certainty. — This recognition may~be more or less 
distinct and positive. Our knowledge in memory may vary from 
the most distinct and positive cognition to the vaguest and most 
uncertain impressions. All the circumstances may stand out 
clearly before the mind — the time when, the place where, the 
events just before and after, the adjacent and surrounding objects; 
or these things may be only partly remembered, and confusion 
and uncertainty exist in the mind. This uncertainty may be so 
great that we may sometimes distrust our own recollections. 

Uncertainty May Diminish. — This uncertainty may often 
be reduced to a less degree, or even changed to certainty. This 
may be done by a review of and meditation upon the circum- 
stances. We try to recall some of the details, we search among 
the circumstances, we meditate upon the subject, and thus try to 
"refresh our memory." We may even reason about the matter, 
bringing our judgment to bear in aiding the memory. The ob- 
ject which was first vaguely recalled, now begins to stand out 
distinctly and vividly before the mind. A moment ago we 
thought it was so and so ; now we are positive that it was. All 
doubt has vanished, and we are as confident in our recognition 
as we are in the truth of an axiom. We may thus often pass 
from a condition of doubt in respect to the revelations of the 
memory, to one of entire certainty. 

Mecognition Wot Comparison. — The recognition of a mental 
product is not an act of comparison. At first thought it may 
seem as if we compared the mental product given in representa- 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. 139 

tion with some previous product of the mind. This, however, is 
not possible. There is only one object in consciousness in an act 
of memory ; and thus there is nothing with which to compare it. 
In order for a comparison to be made, there must be at least two 
objects in the mind. It might seem possible to compare a present 
material object with our recollection of it; but even in the mere 
perception of an object the recognition is immediate. In an act 
of memory the recognition is an act of knowledge direct and im- 
mediate, and not the result of comparison. 

Element of Belief. — The element of recognition is attended 
with belief. We believe what we recognize as a fact of previous 
experience to be so. Dr. Reid says, " This belief, which we have 
from distinct memory, we account real knowledge, no less certain 
than if it was grounded on demonstration ; no man, in his wits, 
calls it in question, or will hear any argument against it. The 
testimony of witnesses in cases of life and death depends upon it, 
and all the knowledge of mankind of past events is built on this 
foundation. There are cases in which a man's memory is less 
distinct and determinate, and where he is ready to allow that it 
may have failed him ; but this does not in the least weaken its 
ci-edit, when it is perfectly distinct." 

The Importance of 3Iemory. — On this subject Dr. Haven 
makes the following judicious remarks: "The importance of 
memory as a power of the mind, is shown by the simple fact, that, 
but for it, there could be no consciousness of continued existence, 
none of personal identity, for memory is our only voucher for the 
fact that we existed at all at any previous moment. Without 
this faculty, each separate instant of life would be a new existence, 
isolated, disconnected with aught before or after; nay, there 
would, in that case, scarcely be any consciousness of even the 
present existence, for we are conscious only as we are cognizant of 
change, says Hamilton, and there is involved in it the idea of the 
latest jxtst along with the present. Memory then is essential to all 
intelligent mental action, whether intellectual, sensational, or 
voluntary. The ancients seem to have been aware of this, when 



140 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

they gave it the name /"'^ (from fn^/uog-, fivao/iai), appellations 
of the mind itself, as being, in fact, the chief characteristic faculty 
of the mind." 

The Laws of Memory. 

Having explained the elements which enter into an act of mem- 
ory, we are now prepared to consider the laws by which the mem- 
ory operates. These laws pertain particularly to the operation of 
the first two elements, — Retention and Recollection. 

I. Nature of the Laws. — By the Laws of Memory, we mean 
the regular mode or order according to which the memory 
operates. The thoughts which we retain and recall are not re- 
tained and recalled by chance. The memory is not a lawless 
activity, doing its work in a hap-hazard sort of way. There is a 
reason why one thing is remembered rather than another, and 
this system or order by which the faculty operates is what we 
mean by the Laws of Memory. We shall first speak of the Laws 
, -_of Recollection. 

Law of Association. — All the laws of recollection are em- 
braced under the principle of the Association of Ideas. Nearly 
every idea or thought that arises in the mind is connected, 
directly or indirectly, with some previous idea or thought. The 
relation may be immediate or remote ; but some connection there 
usually is between a mental product now present to the mind, and 
some mental product which preceded it. This mental product 
previously in the mind is supposed to be the cause or occasion of 
the idea or thought now present to the mind. The fact that one 
idea or thought thus tends to awaken some other idea or thought, 
implies a law of mental activity, which has been called the Law 
of Association. 

Basis of 'Recollection. — This law of association is the basis of 
mental reproduction. One idea or feeling in the mind calls up 
some other idea or feeling with which it is in some way related. 
Our ideas seem, as it were, to be tied together by the invisible 
thread of association, so that as one comes up out of unconscious- 
ness, it draws another with it. Thoughts seem to exist somewhat 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. Ill 

in clusters like the grapes of a bunch, so that in bringing out- 
one, we bring the entire cluster with it. This fact explains what 
we mean by a "train of thought;" one thought after another 
comes before the mind like the cars of a railroad train, each being 
united or coupled to its fellow by the tie of association. The law 
of association is thus the tie, the thread, the golden links, by 
which our thoughts are united in an act of reproduction. 

Source of All lie-collection. — Whether all mental reproduc- 
tion is in accordance with this law is a question. In other words, 
it is a question whether purely spontaneous memory is possible ; 
memory independent of the law of association. Does any idea or 
thought ever occur to the mind not suggested by some previous 
idea or thought? Writers on mental science usually teach us 
that spontaneous memory is not possible. An eminent writer 
says, " Every thought which occurs to the mind is connected with 
and suggested by something which preceded it." Another writer 
says, "What is recalled at any moment .... is always 
recalled by means of the cognitions and feelings which the soul 
possessed the moment previous." 

Recollection Spontaneous. — This view is not regarded as 
correct. Reproduction without the law of association is believed 
to be possible. The memory may act with pure spontaneity, and 
something arise out of unconsciousness that was not suggested by 
some previous idea or thought. Further, it is here maintained 
that not only is this true of spontaneous memory, but that we 
can, by a direct effort of the will, revive some past experience, 
independently of the law of association. The mind usually acts 
in accordance with the law of association ; but it is not a slave to 
this law. The mind is a free spirit, and can snap the chain of 
association, turn the current of thought into a new channel, or 
start a new train of thought at its will. 

TJie Term Suggestion. — The term suggestion is preferred by 
some writers to that of association. It is claimed that the phrase 
" association of ideas " implies that the ideas have previously Co- 
existed in the mind, and that the one recalls the other on account 



142 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

of that previous coexistence. Such a previous association is not 
always a fact ; one idea will suggest another with which it has 
never been previously associated. An object seen for the first 
time will remind me of some other object, though the two could 
never, by the supposition, have been previously associated. It is 
thus held that one idea suggests another by virtue of some law of 
the mind, and that the proper expression is the law of suggestion 
rather than the law of association. 

Association Pre/erred. — It must be admitted that thoughts 
excite or recall one another without a previous association. But 
in such cases there will be found some relation between them ; 
and the term association is used to express this relation, and does 
not mean to assert invariably a previous association. The most 
of our thoughts, however, do occur through the principle of pre- 
vious association ; and this seems to be the underlying principle 
of all reminiscence. Besides this, the expression "law of associa- 
tion" has become established by the usage of philosophers, and 
it would need much stronger objections than the one stated to set 
it aside. 

Law of Relation of Ideas. — This general principle or law of 
association is based on the broader principle of relation ; and it 
would probably be most accurate to say that the memory operates 
by the principle of the relation of ideas. The principal relations 
concerned in an act of recollection are the following ; Similarity, 
Contrast, Cause and Effect, Contiguity in Time and Place. 
These four relations are usually known as the Primary Laws of 
Memory. 

II. Primary Laws op Memory. — The Primary Laws of 
Memory are those which act or tend to act universally with all 
persons. They are especially the laws of reproduction, though 
they also aid in the retaining of knowledge. These laws have 
been usually regarded as four; namely, Similarity, Contrast, 
Cause and Effect, Contiguity in Time and Place. A brief dis- 
cussion of each of these laws will be presented. 
JLaw of Similarity. — It is a law of the memory that similar 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. 143 

objects of thought tend to recall one another. This law is often 
expressed, — "like reminds us of like." Illustrations of the law 
will occur to every mind. Thus a person I meet on the street 
reminds me of a similar person I may have met years before ; a 
farm-house reminds me of the home of my childhood ; one tune 
recalls to mind a tune similar to it ; the landscape near my home 
calls to mind a similar landscape that I saw in a foreign tour, etc. 
So sounds will suggest similar sounds, colors similar colors, tastes 
similar tastes, etc. 

Similarity not Complete. — In these cases it is not necessary that 
the similarity be complete. A single point of resemblance is 
sufficient to awaken the conception of objects in other respects 
quite dissimilar. A person with blue eyes may remind me of 
another person with blue eyes, while in other respects they may 
be entirely unlike each other. A single feature of a landscape, 
— a tree, a rock, or a grove — will bring before the mind the pic- 
ture of another landscape widely different in all other respects. 
"An article of dress," as Haven says, "peculiar to the Eliza- 
bethan age, or to the court of Louis XIV., reminds us of the 
lordly dames and courtiers, or gallant Warriors, of those periods." 

JLaw of Contrast. — It is a law of the memory, that dissimilar 
objects of thought tend to recall one another. Thus cold re- 
minds us of heat, light of darkness, joy of sorrow, sickness of 
health, the splendor of wealth of the wretchedness of poverty, etc. 
On the same principle, the giant reminds us of the dwarf and 
the dwarf of the giant, the white man of the negro and the negro 
of the white man. The greater the extremes, the more efficiently 
the law operates ; as a very long nose reminds us of a very short 
one, a very dark complexion of a very light one, a very slender 
person of a very stout one, a very homely person of a very beauti- 
ful one. 

Cause and Effect. — It is a law of the memory that things re- 
lated as cause and effect suggest one another. This law operates 
in both directions ; that is, the cause may suggest the effect and 
the effect the cause. Thus the knife will remind us of the wound 



144 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

made by it, and the wound will remind us of the knife. Fire 
makes us think of heat and heat of fire; slavery suggests the civil 
war and the civil war, slavery ; taxes recall the war of the Revo- 
lution and the Revolution, taxes. Even a cup of tea may awaken 
the memory of the struggles of our forefathers in their overthrow 
of the power of the mother country. 

What the Law Embraces. — This law embraces all relations 
similar to cause and effect, including secondary causes, occasions, 
accompanying circumstances, etc. Thus attending a theatre may 
remind one of the death of Lincoln : the stubbornness of King 
George, of the speech of Patrick Henry, etc. It also embraces 
such relations as means and ends, — as a machine and its use or 
the end to be attained by it. Thus a cannon reminds one of war ; 
a locomotive, of a moving train of cars ; a mill-stone, of a barrel 
of flour or a loaf of bread. 

Contiguity in Time and Place. — It is a law of the mem- 
ory, that things associated in time and place suggest one another. 
Thus Waterloo suggests Napoleon and Wellington, Runny mede 
reminds us of King John and the Barons, the Sistine Chapel re- 
calls Michael Angelo and his immortal frescoes, the Vatican 
reminds one of Raphael and the Transfiguration. This law is 
especially operative in historical facts: thus Oxford reminds us 
of the burning of Latimer and Ridley ; Faneuil Hall, of Otis and 
Warren; Philadelphia, of Independence Hall and the Declaration 
of Independence, etc. 

Laws Work Together. — These four laws of memory may 
operate together in producing any train of thought. One link of 
the chain may be given by one law, another by another law, and 
some links may be supplied by more than one law. Sometimes it 
is difficult to tell what law was operative in bringing to mind any 
particular fact or event ; and sometimes it would seem as if the 
thought arose spontaneously without any one of the laws. 

No Invariable Relations. — These laws do not act with a 
fixed and invariable uniformity, — that is, there is no fixed and 
invariable relation between the objects of our recollections. The 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. 145 

same laws of association do not give rise to the same train of 
thought starting from the same initial point at different times. 
Starting at any point, one series of recollections may rise at one 
time, another at another time, and still another series at some 
other time. There is thus no fixed and invariable order to our 
thoughts, except when a certain order has been established by 
committing a series of objects, as in learning an oration or a 
poem. 

III. The Secondary Laws. — The Secondary Laws are usu- 
ally regarded as principles which modify the action of the Prim- 
ary Laws. The primary laws explain the tendency of certain 
classes of objects to recur to the mind ; the secondary laws ac- 
count for one object in any of these classes rather than another. 
This relation of the secondary laws to the primary laws will be 
better understood by regarding them as laws of retention, as the 
others are laws of recollection. The Primary Laws are thus re- 
garded as laws of recollection, and the Secondary Laws as laws of 
retention. 

Enumeration of the Latvs. — The principal of the Secondary 
Laws are as follows : 1. Continuance of Attention ; 2. Frequenc} r 
of Repetition ; 3. Vividness of Feeling ; 4. Recentness of Acquisi- 
tion : 5. Exclusiveness of Association ; 6. Natural Mental Differ- 
ences : 7. State of the Mind; 8. State of the Body; 9. Profes- 
sional Habits. All of these laws seem to be conditions of 
acquisition and retention, and as such modify the action of the 
primary laws, accounting for one conception rather than another 
in a train of recollections. 

1. Continuance of Attention. — The continuance of the at- 
tention upon any object of thought tends to fix it permanently in 
the memory. The longer I look at anything, the clearer is my 
conception of it; and clearness of conception is a condition of 
retention. Continuance of attention seems to deepen the impres- 
sion of the object on the mind, as the continued pressure of the 
die on a tablet makes a deep and permanent impression on it. 

2. Ft equency of Repetition. — Frequency of repetition alsc 



146 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

tends to fix an object of thought in the memory. A paragraph 
read over once makes some impression on the mind ; read several 
times it becomes a permanent possession. A stanza of poetry is 
committed by repeating it over and over. The lecturer must re- 
view his oration or lecture occasionally or it will slip from his 
memory. The man who tells his anecdotes or repeats his pet 
quotations frequently, has them at his tongue's end. In the same 
way, frequent reviews of the lessons of the school-room tend to 
make the acquisition permanent. 

3. Vividness of Feeling. — Vividness of feeling exerts a 
strong influence on retention. The event which excites the deep- 
est emotion, whether of joy or sorrow, makes the deepest impres- 
sion on the mind and is the longest remembered. The earliest 
recollections of childhood are those which awakened the liveliest 
feelings of happiness or sorrow ; as the gift of a toy, the loss of a 
pet, etc. The poem or essay or historical incident which touched 
our hearts most deeply is most easily committed and retained. A 
man in circumstances of danger will remember the most trifling 
incidents that occurred. The criminal on trial for his life has 
been known to retain the most vivid remembrance of the words 
of the witnesses, the appearance of those present in the court- 
room, etc. 

4. Itecentness of Acquisition. — Recentness of acquisition 
has also a modifying influence on the memory. The lesson 
learned to-day is clearer in the mind than the lesson of yesterday. 
The poem committed a year ago is not so easily recalled as the 
one recently learned, unless it has been frequently reviewed. 
The lajjse of time seems to weaken the impression on the mind, 
and sometimes the object, once distinctly known, seems to fade 
entirely out of the memory. 

5. Exclasiveness of Association. — Exclusiveness of associa- 
tion is also a condition of retaining and recollecting. The scng 
which we heard sung by only one person, is, when heard again, 
much more likely to bring to mind that person, than if it had 
been associated with several other singers. The bond of union is 



THE STATURE OF MEMORY. 147 

relatively, if not absolutely stronger when there is only one thread 
of association, than when there are several. This law seems to 
be more intimately connected with the primary laws, than the 
rest of the laws of retention, as it is a circumstance of the several 
laws of association. 

6. Natural llental Differences. — Natural differences of 
mind cannot be overlooked in considering the power of retention 
and recollection. Minds differ absolutely and relatively in re- 
spect to the power of memory. Some memories are much 
stronger than others for almost every object of thought; some 
retain one class of objects, as names, dates, etc., better than 
another, even when the general power seems no greater. Tastes 
differ also, and this accounts for some of the differences in the 
memories of different persons, 

7. State of 31ind. — The condition of the mind at the time of 
acquisition has much to do with the tenacity of the memory. 
Sometimes the mind is clear and bright, and we commit with 
great ease and readiness ; at other times the mind seems dull and 
sluggish, and we retain with labor and recall with effort. In 
grief, mental exhaustion, or preoccupation, the passing events 
make a very slight impression on the mind and are not usually 
retained. 

8. State of Body. — The state of the body has also a strong 
influence on the memory. Some days we can commit a lesson 
much more readily than at other times; and, in some conditions 
of the body, our thoughts and words flow very slowly and we 
recall with effort some of the most familiar facts. A slight 
derangement of any of the bodily functions, or even the condition 
of the atmosphere, will sometimes seem to affect the memory. 
When wearied with physical exercise, the memory operates with 
diminished vigor; when the body feels strong and vigorous, the 
memory retains and recalls with the greatest readiness. 

.9. Professional Habits. — Professional and business habits 
determine largely what we commit and recall. The physician 
remembers matters pertaining to disease and surgical operations; 



148 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

and the lawyer has his mind stored with the incidents and plead- 
ings of celebrated trials. The sailor can talk of storms and ship- 
wrecks ; the hunter of thrilling incidents of the forest ; the politi- 
cian remembers the political history of his times and the records 
of public men and parties. The memory of each person is largely 
determined by the business he follows and the habit of mind 
created thereby. 

IV. The One Primary Law. — Attempts have been made by 
various writers on philosophy to reduce the several primary laws 
to one general principle which shall embrace them all. This 
subject is of sufficient interest to call for a brief discussion. The 
one principle which seems to lie at the basis of all these laws is 
that of the relation of ideas, and may be called the Law of Re- 
lation. 

The Law of Relation. — The several primary laws of mem- 
ory may all be embraced under the one general principle of 
relation. This general law may be stated formally as follows: It 
is a law of the memory that related objects of thought tend to recall 
one another. A more subjective statement of the law is, — It is a 
law of the mind that it naturally tends to think of related objects of 
thought. Still another statement of the law is, — One mental state 
tends to reproduce some related mental state. 

Basis of the Law. — The reason for this law is found in the 
natural constitution of the mind. One of the fundamental acts 
of the mind is comparison, or the conception of relations. All 
mental activity tends to related thought; our knowledge of things 
is largely a conception of relations. All mental action is in 
accordance with this law of the relation of ideas ; you cannot 
conceive of thinking, or of knoAvledge as the product of thought, 
without the idea of relations. Relations -tend to system ; and the 
mind is thus not chaotic in its operations, but systematic and 
orderly. This activity in the sphere of related thought operates 
not only in the reproduction of the old, but also in the evolution 
of the new. This systematic method of recalling things according 
to some relations between them, is what we mean by the law of 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. 149 

memory; and the statement given explains the nature of and 
reason for the law. 

The Various Relations. — The most prominent relations of 
objects are those named in the Primary Laws, — similarity, con- 
trast, cause and effect, and contiguity in time and place. The 
memory operates by other relations also, as that of whole and 
parts, means and ends, etc. ; but these may be regarded as em- 
braced under the four laws already considered. Thus the law of 
whole and parts may be embraced under that of contiguity ; and 
means and ends under cause and effect. 

Applies to all Relations. — The law applies not only to things 
logically related, but also to things actually related or associated 
in the mind. It embraces the association of continuity and conse- 
cution, that is, things associated in the same instant of time or in 
consecutive instants. Thus the words of a sentence, a series of 
sounds, the letters of the alphabet, etc., suggest one another be- 
cause they have been actually related in repetition. When there 
is a relation of thought as well as of juxtaposition, the series is 
much more readily recalled, as the words of a sentence are much 
more easily reproduced in their natural order than if the same 
words were thrown together by chance. 

Applies to Feelings. — This law also explains how a feeling 
can suggest an object, or an object a feeling. The two have been 
conjoined in an actual experience, and the recurrence of the one 
tends to recall to mind the other. Thus the feeling with which I 
read a poem or hear a fine piece of music, when it recurs, tends 
to bring to mind the poem or the music ; so a feeling of disgust 
associated with an object, when renewed, may recall the object. 
In each of these cases, too, the object will tend to reawaken the 
original feeling. For the same reason, also, tw'o objects which 
have been associated with the same feeling may recall one 
another, through the common link of this similar emotion. 

Law of Med integration. — Hamilton and some other writers 
embraced the several primary laws under a general principle, 
which he calls the law of redintegration. The principle may be 



150 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

stated thus : Objects that have been previously united as parts of the 
same mental state tend to recall one another. A law quite similar 
to this had been previously announced by Aristotle, which 
Hamilton states as follows : " Thoughts which have at any time, 
recent or remote, stood to each other in the relation of coexistence, or 
immediate consecution, do, when severally reproduced, tend to repro- 
duce each other." This is the principle of prior coexistence and 
Immediate consecution. 

Application of This Lair. — This principle of prior coexist- 
ence or redintegration, applies readily to the law of contiguity, if 
indeed it be not another expression of the same law. The law 
of cause and eject is also readily comprehended under this prin- 
ciple, since tilings related as cause and effect are usually united 
in some previous mental state. . In endeavoring to bring the law 
of similars under this principle, it is assumed that the single 
feature in any object, as A, which reminds us of some other object, 
as B, containing that feature, does so because this common feature 
was previously united in the, conception B with the rest of B; 
so that when I see A, I fix my attention on this common feature 
and then complete my conception by thinking of the rest of B, 
and thus of the whole of B. In applying the law to opposites, it 
is assumed that they are complements of each other, that neither 
is complete without the other, as Ave cannot have the idea of long 
without the idea of short, and they are thus parts of a larger 
whole, and the one recalls the other by the completion of the 
entire sphere of thought of which each is a part. 

Principle of Emotions. — The application of this law of co- 
existence or redintegration to similars and opposites is evidently 
not very satisfactory. Dr. Brown endeavors to explain it by the 
influence of sensations and emotions. Thus one object recalls a 
similar object with which it has never coexisted by the fact that 
both have coexisted with the same or a similar emotion. "So 
opposites reproduce each other by the common feeling with 
which each was experienced ; as a person with a long nose re- 
minds one of a person with a short nose, on account of the com- 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. 151 

mon feeling of surprise or wonder each awakens. In this case, 
the tie or link was a common emotion. Prof. Mahan carries out 
this idea of Dr. Brown's, and makes the common emotion the sole 
ground or law of association. 

Law of Similar Action. — Dr. Porter, in his attempt to re- 
duce the several laws to one comprehensive principle, announces 
the following law: u The mind tends to act again in a mannei 
similar to any in which it has acted before." A simpler statement 
of the same principle is, — One mental state tends to reproduce some 
similar mental state. This law will not, however, explain all the 
cases of the phenomena of mental reproduction. It fails in its 
application to opposites, and is not clear in its application to all 
the cases of the other primary laws. The same is true of Hamil- 
ton's law of Redintegration and also the law of Aristotle. The 
one principle, simple and comprehensive, which seems to cover' all 
the cases, is that of the relation of ideas, as has been previously- 
explained. The simple law is that one mental state tends to repro- 
duce some related mental state. 

III. Remarks on the Memory. 

There are several questions of a general character, usually dis- 
cussed by writers on the memory, to which attention is appropri- 
ately called in this place. Among these are the relation of 
memory to intellectual strength, the failure of memory, the mem- 
ory of the aged, and effects of disease on the memory. 

Strong Memory and Weak Mind. — The question has often 
been asked whether the power of memory may be regarded as a 
test of intellectual ability. In reply to this question, we remark 
first, that a strong memory is often found in connection with weak 
mental powers in other respects. Persons deficient in the powers 
of judgment and reasoning will often be found to possess an 
unusual talent for retaining words and facts. Thus " Blind Tom," 
who is regarded as almost an idiot, can reproduce a piece of 
music, heard for the first time, with great accuracy; and it is said 
that he can tell the name of nearly every hotel at which he has 



152 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ever stopped, and also the names of the landlords. Many other 
instances, equally remarkable, can be cited. • 

Strong Mind and Memory. — It is also true that persons 
with unusually vigorous minds are often endowed with a remark- 
able gift of memory. Thus it is said of Pascal, who possessed 
intellectual powers of the highest order, that he forgot nothing 
that he had ever read or thought. Leibnitz and Euler were not 
less celebrated for their intelligence than for their memory ; and 
both could repeat the whole of the iEneid. Ben Jonson, the 
dramatist, could repeat all that he had ever written, and whole 
books that he had read. Napoleon Bonaparte, Themistocles, and 
Dugald Stewart, are also mentioned as remarkable examples of 
the power of memory accompanying great strength of intellect. 

No Fixed Helation. — The relation of the memory to intellect- 
ual- strength is thus not fixed and invariable; and the power of 
memory cannot be regarded as a measure of intellectual ability. 
A weak mind in other respects may have a strong memory, Such 
cases are so frequent that it gives rise to the belief that a strong 
memory indicates a deficiency in some other power of the mind. 
This is not regarded as correct, however, since men of good intel- 
lectual abilities often manifest unusual power of memory. The 
rule is that the strength of memory is proportioned to the general 
strength of mind, though it is a rule subject to many and striking 
exceptions. 

Failure of Memory. — Failure of memory usually accompan- 
ies the failure of the other mental powers. A decline of mental 
vigor is usually first manifested by a deficiency of the memory. 
In advancing years, there is often a difficulty in recalling proper 
names and dates, and sometimes even words in general. Emerson 
was perhaps one of the most notable examples of this ; his conver- 
sation for the last two or three years of his life was embarrassing 
and painful on account of his failure to recall names. The mem- 
ory of old people often partly fails, while the mind, in other re- 
spects, seems to retain its full vigor. 

Cause of Failure. — The cause of the decline of memory may 



THE NATURE OF MEMORY. 153 

be twofold. First, it is probably due in part to some change in 
the condition of the brain itself; the memory seems to be espe- 
cially dependent on the condition of the brain. Second, it is partly 
due to some change in the conditions of remembering. There is 
less vividness of conception ; the senses are not so sensitive and 
active as they were in early years, and thus the impression made 
on the mind is not so deep and permanent. There is also a lack 
of interest in the things about us on account of their loss of 
novelty. The events taking place belong to a new generation 
and have lost their interest, and the impression is thus slight and 
transient. On account of this loss of interest, also, they are not so 
often reverted to, there is no desire to dwell upon them ; hence 
they lack frequency of coexistence, which is one of the conditions 
of retention. 

3IemonjoftheAf/ed. — With old persons the remembrance 
of the past is usually vivid and distinct. Unobservant of passing 
events, the old man dwells with pleasure on the past. He re- 
members the events and incidents of his early life, — the sports 
and companions of his childhood, the triumphs of his young man- 
hood, the achievements of his vigorous prime of life, etc. All 
these come crowding upon his memory; he lives his life over 
again in his recollections, and finds his highest happiness in re- 
calling and relating the incidents of his early years. 

Effects of Disease. — The memory is often affected by disease. 
Sometimes after a sickness, the knowledge of a certain class of 
objects, or of certain persons, or of a particular language, or of a 
certain class of words of a language, as substantives, is lost to the 
mind. In other cases a certain portion of the life is obliterated 
from the memory. Cases of injury to the brain have been fol- 
lowed by the loss of a language, or of the names of objects, while 
the names of adjectives were easily remembered. Dr. Abercrom- 
bie mentions a surgeon who so far recovered from a fall as to give 
directions in respect to his treatment, but for several days lost all 
idea of having a wife and children. One of the most remarkable 
cases is that of Mr. Tennent, who, on recovering from a trance, 



154 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

had lost all the knowledge acquired during his past life, and was 
obliged to begin his studies at the alphabet, aiid yet whose knowl- 
edge suddenly returned 'to him a few months afterward. 

Disease Excites Memory. — Sometimes disease produces the 
opposite effect, by bringing back to the mind things long since 
forgotten. Persons in severe sickness or at the point of death, 
have been known to converse in a language which they had not 
spoken since youth. Coleridge tells of a German servant-girl, 
who in her sickness repeated passages of Latin, Greek, and 
Hebrew which she had heard her master repeat as he walked in 
his study. Dr. Rush mentions the case of an Italian in New 
York, who in the beginning of his sickness spoke English, in the 
middle of it French, and on the day of his death only Italian. A 
clergyman of Philadelphia relates that it was not unusual for the 
Germans and Swedes of his congregation, when near death, to 
speak and pray in their native languages, which they may not 
have heard for fifty years. 

Inference Drawn. — Some have inferred from these facts that 
all knowledge is indestructible; tlaat whatever we have known 
may at some time be brought back to mind. Coleridge and 
others have derived from them the doctrine of future retribution. 
Whatever may be thought of these inferences, it is certain that 
the fact that our past lives may be recalled, and the tendency of 
the mind to revert to the scenes and incidents of our early life, 
suggests to us the importance of a well-spent life. A mind stored 
with pleasant recollections " will cast a cheerful radiance over the 
past, brighten the uncertain future in those hours of gloom and 
despondency when the shadows lengthen upon the path of our 
earthly pilgrimage, and life is drawing to a close." 



CHAPTER II. 

THE CULTURE OF THE MEMORY. 

HAVING explained the nature of the memory, we shall now 
proceed to the consideration of its culture. This subject 
can be conveniently discussed under two general heads, — The 
Nature and Importance of the Culture of the Memory, and the 
Methods of Cultivating the Memory. 

I. Nature and Importance of Culture. — Under this head 
we shall consider the folio-wing topics: 1. Importance of the Cul- 
ture of the Memory ; 2. Neglect of the Culture of the Memory ; 
3. Differences of the Power of Memory; 4. Time for the Culture 
of the Memory. 

Importance of Culture. — The importance of a good memory 
is universally acknowledged. It is of great value in every de- 
partment of life, — in business, in study, in science, in every 
avocation or profession. The man who can carry the details of 
his business in his memory finds it not only a great convenience, 
but an economy of time and labor. In the study of history, 
literature, the languages, etc., a retentive memory is invaluable ; 
indeed, no profound attainments can be made in these depart- 
ments without it. In natural history it is also indispensable; the 
naturalist must carry in his memory an accumulation of details 
in order to recognize the objects already described, to form his 
classification, or to discover new objects not yet observed or 
described. 

Neglect of Culture. — There has been a tendency, in modern 
times, to neglect the culture of the memory. The ordinary 
scholar of to-day is not so remarkable for his memory as the in- 
telligent man in ancient times. The multiplication of books 

(155) 



156 MENTAT SCIENCE. 

tends to diminish the use and thus the power of memory. . For- 
merly, the ability to repeat from memory the contents of entire 
manuscripts was a valuable accomplishment, and many men were 
able to do it ; to-day men depend on finding the knowledge they 
may wish to use in books, rather than on holding it in their mem- 
ories. The reading of a large number of books also tends to 
weaken the power of memory ; the mind is spread over so large a 
surface that it does not grasp anything with sufficient distinctness 
to make a permanent impression. 

Neglect in Modern Education. — Modern education tends some- 
what to the neglect of the culture of the power of memory. The 
old schoolmasters gave lessons that required the activity of the 
memory ; the modern teacher takes more especial pains to culti- 
vate the understanding. Formerly the test of excellence at 
school was the amount acquired; now the test is largely the 
power of reasoning. Memory studies have given place to thought 
studies; pupils are thus taught to rely on their reason, and to 
value the culture of thought power more than the acquisition of 
knowledge. Though this may be an improvement over the old 
method, the fact is evident that there is a tendency in modern 
education to neglect the culture of the memory. 

Differences of 31emori/. — In the culture of the memory, it 
should be remembered that there are great differences in the 
natural power of this faculty. Minds differ more strikingly in 
this respect than in any other faculty ; or at least the differenced 
are more apparent than in the other faculties. They differ, too, 
both in respect to general power and special objects. Some per- 
sons remember anything better than other persons ; some remem- 
ber one class of objects, as dates and names, while there is no 
superiority in general power. 

Cause of the Difference. — This difference is due partly to nature 
and partly to culture. Some persons can tell the day of the 
month or week of nearly every prominent event of their lives, 
without making any special effort to remember them. Such 
manifestations of the power of memory as that of Euler, Pascal, 



THE CULTURE OF THE MEMORY. Lf>7 

etc., are due to an unusual natural gift of this capacity. Natural 
differences of taste create a difference in the power of the memory, 
as we remember those things best in which we feel the liveliest 
interest. The difference is due sometimes also to culture. Edu- 
cation often determines the taste, and thus affects the retentive 
power of the memory. If early associations have directed the 
mind in the study of language, history, etc., the person will 
naturally excel in the acquirement of these branches. 

Instances of Remarkable Memory. — Historians and writers 
on mental philosophy mention some remarkable examples of the 
power of memory. Cyrus, it is said, knew the names of all his 
officers — Pliny says, of all his soldiers. Themistocles couldname 
every one of the twenty thousand citizens of Athens. Hortensius, 
after sitting all day at an auction, could at night recall every 
article sold, the purchaser, and the price. Dr. Wallis, while in 
bed in the dark, extracted the square root of a number of fifty- 
three places to twenty-seven terms, and repeated the result twenty 
days afterwards. Euler, blind from early life, carried in his 
memory a table of the first six powers of the series of natural 
numbers up to one hundred. Two of his pupils, in calculating a 
converging series, found, on reaching the seventeenth term, that 
their results differed by a unit at the fiftieth figure ; and to decide 
the question he made the calculation mentally, and his result was 
found to be correct. 

Hamilton tells us that Muretus saw at Padua a young Corsi- 
can who could repeat thirty-six thousand names, in the .order in 
which they were given to him, or repeat them in the reverse 
order, or begin at any point in the list and repeat both ways. 
The celebrated Magliabecchi, librarian of the Duke of Tuscany, 
it is said, could name all the authors who had written upon any 
subject, giving the name of the book, the words, and often the 
page. A gentleman of Florence, to test his memory, lent him a 
manuscript to read, and afterward, pretending to have lost it, re- 
quested him to endeavor to recall it, which he did with great 
exactness. It is also stated that upon being asked by the Gran 1 



158 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Duke if he could procure for him a copy of a certain book, he 
replied, "No, sir, it is impossible; there is but one in the world; 
that is in the Grand Seignior's library at Constantinople, and is 
the seventh book, on the seventh shelf, on the right hand as you 
go in." 

Time for Culture. — The special time for the culture of the 
memory is youth. The habits of the mind are then formed; and 
the power of memory depends largely upon mental habits, — upon 
the habits of attention, concentration, systematic thought, etc. 
Careless habits of reading, study, and observation manifest them- 
selves in impaired powers of retention. The mental dissipation 
of novel and newspaper reading exercises a pernicious influence 
on the memory ; and young people should be carefully guarded 
against acquiring them. 

This training of the memory should be continued through life. 
The tendency of advancing years is to lead to forgetfulness. The 
habit of conversation and an occasional review of one's knowledge 
will keep the acquisitions somewhat fresh and make them more 
easily recalled. The daily practice of systematic reading and 
study, with frequent reviews of what is read, Avill aid in preserv- 
ing the memory comparatively strong into good old age. 

II. Methods of Culture.— Under methods of cultivating the 
memory, we shall present the various methods of increasing the 
power of the memory, and sIioav their application to the several 
studies which depend more particularly on this faculty. 

Si/ E-xercise. — The faculty of memory, like every other 
faculty of the mind, is cultivated by exercise. This exercise 
should be judicious in kind and quantity. The things to be re- 
membered should be adapted to the age and mental ability of the 
pupil. There should be facts for the young mind and principles 
for the older mind. Care should be taken also that the mind is 
not overtaxed ; for, like an overstrained muscle, the mind may 
be weakened by excessive labor. Cramming weakens the mem- 
ory, as physical cramming weakens the stomach. Students who 
have been overtaxed with their studies, often find that the 



THE CULTURE OF THE MEMORY. 159 

memory seems to fail; and only absolute rest for a time will 
restore the vigor of the faculty. 

Grasp Clearly. — The pupil must be trained to grasp the 
subjects of thought clearly. Clear conception is the fundamental 
condition of tenacious retention. The mind thus gets the object 
within its grasp, obtains a firm hold of it, and is enabled to 
keep it in its possession. That which is only partly cognized, or 
which is, as it were, merely touched by the mental fingers, soon 
slips away. The lessson which has been completely mastered, is 
retained with comparative ease ; the lesson which was only half 
learned, soon vanishes. 

How to Grasp Clearly. — To give distinct ideas to the mind, 
objects and illustrations are of value, especially to the young. 
The concrete method of teaching is thus adapted to the training 
of the memory. The writing out of what we wish to remember 
will also aid in clearness of mental conception. The eye will 
aid the ear, and the mind will be doubly impressed by the use of 
both senses. The oral expression of what we wish to remember, 
is a good test of clearness of conception ; and aids also in giving 
those clear and definite ideas of a subject which are readily 
retained. 

Continued Attention. — The habit of continuity of attention 
must also be acquired. The longer the mind dwells upon an 
object, the more deeply it seems to be impressed on the memory. 
Attention, in relation to.the memory, seems to operate like the 
die upon a waxen tablet ; the longer the pressure is continued, 
the deeper and more permanent the character becomes. The 
mind that flits from one thing to another, seldom has a clear and 
distinct remembrance of anything; the concentrated energy of 
the mind on a few objects of thought makes them a permanent 
possession. 

Gives Clear Conception*. — Attention to objects of thought 
affords clear conceptions of things, which is one of the fundu- 
mental conditions of a good memory. Attention gives the mind 
distinct and well-marked mental pictures of objects, and clear 



160 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

and adequate ideas of the more abstract subjects of thought; and 
without clearness and defmiteness knowledge soon vanishes. A 
careless and inattentive mind becomes a sort of dim, cracked 
looking-glass, reflecting things in all kinds of blurred and 
crooked fashions, so that what it does remember will lack 
accuracy. One of the first rules, therefore, for the cultivation of 
the memory, is to give due attention to things. 

Vividness of Feeling- — The feelings exercise a strong influ- 
ence upon the memory. The more vivid the feeling in respect to 
any object or event, the longer it will be remembered. The in- 
cidents of childhood that gave us the highest joy or deepest 
sorrow, as a visit, a new toy, the loss of a pet or a parent, are 
never forgotten. The event that occurred during excitement is 
flashed deep into the memory in all its details, and is a perma- 
nent possession. The railroad accident or the storm at sea im- 
presses the mOst trivial and unimportant events indelibly on our 
memory. 

Value in Education. — This principle should be employed in 
giving culture to the memory of students. There should be an 
effort to awaken interest in what is to be remembered. A listless 
habit of mind will acquire few permanent impressions ; ideas that 
come into the mind when we are in an apathetic state, make no 
permanent lodgment there. We should, therefore, endeavor to 
awaken a lively interest in that which is the subject of study. 
Lessons should be made attractive, the minds of pupils should be 
made to glow with a feeling of interest in their studies, a deep 
feeling of earnestness should be aroused, and every means possi- 
ble made use of to cultivate a desire to know and a fondness for 
acquisition. " Love, in fact, is the parent of memory." 

By Hepetition. — Frequent repetition is one of the means of 
strengthening the memory. Repetition, as already explained, is 
one of the conditions of acquisition and retention. A lesson, an 
oration, or a poem, is fixed in the memory by frequently repeating 
it. Repetition seems to impress the idea, as the repeated pressure 
of the die on the tablet deepens the characters impressed. The 



THE CULTURE OF THE MEMORY. 161 

mind tends to repeat a mental state or series of mental states in 
which it has often been found. 

Repetition Intelligent — This repetition should be intelligent and 
attentive; not the mere mechanical repeating of words with a 
wandering mind. "Learning by heart" is often a mere learning 
by sense or sound, and not by the mind. The parrot-like repeti- 
tion of words may impair rather than strengthen the memory. 
The mind must accompany the word, if we wish to acquire 
quickly and permanently. In repeating a poem "learned by 
rote," when brought to a stand-still, we often have to go back 
over a stanza, till we fall in with " the swing of the rhythm and 
are carried over the sticking place." 

Knowledge Reviewed. — Knowledge should thus be frequently 
reviewed. The recitation of a lesson impresses the subject more 
deeply than when it is not recited. Frequent reviews are also 
valuable in this respect ; a constant review of the leading facts 
and principles of a study should be kept up, in connection witb 
the lesson in advance. A habit of reviewing one's knowledge 
occasionally, after leaving school, should be adopted. The history 
should be thought over, the poem repeated, and the books re- 
read, if we would keep our knowledge fresh and accurate. 

State of Mind and Body. — To acquire and retain well, the 
body and mind should be in a healthy condition. Coleridge 
says that the requisites of a good memory are sound logic, a 
healthy digestion, and a quiet conscience. The first refers to the 
condition of the intellect, the second to the condition of the body, 
and the third to the condition of the mora] nature; and all of 
these are concerned in and affect the memory. When the mind 
is depressed or its free activity interfered with, the power of mem- 
ory is weakened ; when the intellect works clearly and with vigor, 
the memory will be strong and ready. . So also when the body is 
suffering with disease or pain, the attention will be distracted and 
things make but a slight impression on the memory ; but when 
there is that exuberance of feeling which flows from good 
health, the mind seizes with vigor and holds with tenacity what- 



162 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ever is presented to it. A disturbed conscience also produces that 
disquiet that distracts the attention and impairs the power of 
memory ; while a clear and quiet conscience gives that calm and 
peaceful condition of the mind that is conducive to the best efforts 
of the memory. 

Bij Association. — To train the memory, we should accustom 
it to habits of systematic and related thought. Such an associa- 
tion is the foundation of a good memory. Without this, the 
memory is like a chest of drawers full of tossed and tumbled 
articles, where the right one is hard to find. With it, it is like 
the wise business man who has boxes, and drawers, and compart- 
ments, and pigeon-holes for his different papers, — a place for 
everything and everything in its place, — where he can lay his 
hand upon what he needs whenever it is wanted. The three laws 
of associatioH, especially useful in cultivating the memory, are 
'those of similarity, contiguity in time and place, and cause and 
effect The memory operates spontaneously according to these 
laws ; but we should endeavor, by a special effort, to associate our 
knowledge by the natural laws of acquisition and retention. 

Lata of Similarity. — Knowledge should be associated by the 
law of similarity. This is one of the simplest of the primary laws 
of memory, and one which controls the earliest activity of the 
mind. The aim of the student and teacher should be to aid 
nature in the action of this law, so that it may become a fixed 
habit of the mind. ' The principle may be applied in remember- 
ing a great variety of objects. Words similarly spelled or pro- 
nounced may be grouped together, similar words in different 
languages may be compared, cities of nearly the same popula- 
tion and states and counties of nearly the same size may be 
associated, and attention called to historic events occurring on 
the same day or during the same year. The habit of associating 
similar things will enable one to remember many facts that would 
otherwise slip away from the memory. 

Time and Place. — The law of contiguity in time and 
place can also be employed in strengthening the memory. This 



THE CULTURE OF THE MEMORY. 163 

law applies especially to the remembering of the facts of history. 
Events occurring at the same time, or on some given day, or dur- 
ing some particular period, may be linked together by the tie of 
time. Thus we can easily remember, that Adams and Jefferson, 
died on the same Fourth of July, 1826 ; that Lee retreated from 
Gettysburg and Vicksburg fell on the Fourth of July, 1863; that 
the battle of Pittsburg Landing and the capture of Island Num- 
ber Ten occurred on the same day, etc. So also events occurring 
at the same place, or in the same city or country, may be so 
associated that they will recall one another. 

Eras and Epochs. — So also the events and persons of an age or 
era may be readily remembered by being associated. The Eliza- 
bethan era will readily give, not only the approximate date of the 
time of Elizabeth, but also of Mary Queen of Scots, Raleigh, 
Sidney, Shakspeare, the Spanish Armada, etc. Associating the 
Augustan age with the beginning of the Christian era, we can 
readily remember when Antony, Cleopatra, Cicero, Virgil, etc., 
lived. Remembering that Socrates was the teacher of Plato, 
Plato of Aristotle, and Aristotle of Alexander, by remembering 
the date of either one we can approximate the dates of the others 
with sufficient accuracy fur all practical purposes. 

Cause and Effect. — The law of cause and effect, including 
means to ends, should be used to aid and strengthen the memory. 
This law will be found especially valuable in remembering the 
facts of history which bear this relation. To relate the Revolu- 
tion and the facts which led to it as the cause, will aid in fixing 
these events in the mind. The Protectorate of Cromwell and the 
revolution which led to it are best remembered in their connection 
of cause and effect. The events associated with the battles of 
Solferino and Magenta are better understood and more easily re- 
tained when read in their relation to a United Italy. The habit 
of linking historic facts in this way will greatly facilitate the 
study of history. 

Classifying Knoivledge. — The memory can be aided by 
the careful classification of knowledge. The habit of writing 



164 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

outlines of the subjects studied or read, gives systematic arrange- 
ment to facts and principles, which greatly facilitates the power 
of acquisition. It gives a bird's eye view of the entire subject, 
enables us to see the relation of the parts, and impresses the 
mind both on account of a clearer conception of the subject and 
a view of the relations. 

Kinds of Outlines. — These outlines may be either logical or 
topical. Many subjects will admit of a logical relation of the 
parts, so that one part is seen to be contained in and to grow out 
of another part. Some subjects will admit of only a topical re- 
lation of facts, but even a topical connecting of facts increases 
the clearness of view and enables the eye to aid the thought in 
fixing the impression. 

Special Artifices. — There are some special artifices which have 
been found useful in remembering a certain class of objects or 
words. The two most convenient and practical are those of 
verse and key-ivords. Thus the number of days of the month is 
most conveniently remembered by the couplet, "Thirty days 
hath September, etc." The couplet, " To be easy all night, Let 
your supper be light," serves to impress a law of health that 
many people are apt to forget. An arrangement of the kings of 
England in verses similar to the following, probably assists the 
memory of the youthful learner : 

"First William the Norman, then William his son, 
Henry, Stephen, and Henry, then Richard and John. 
Next Henry the third, Edwards one, two, and three ; 
And again after Richard, three Henrys we see, ' ' etc. 

Use of Key- Words. — Key-words are often valuable in remem- 
bering a series of abstract terms. Thus the word vibgyor gives 
the order of the colors of the spectrum, and also the formation 
of the secondary colors from the primary, and thus also the com- 
plementary colors. The term Die will give the order of the 
three styles of Grecian architecture, the Doric, Ionic, and Corin- 
thian, and aid in remembering them by the relative order of or- 
namentation. The term Tisp I have found valuable in fixing the 



THE CULTURE OF THE MEMORY. 165 

four kinds of dissyllabic feet, the Trochee, Iambus, Spondee, and 
Pyrrhic ; and also the term Daat, for the principal trisyllabic feet, 
suggesting by the order of the letters the name of each. 

Use of Sentences. — A list of names in their order can be re- 
membered by a sentence, the initials of whose words correspond 
with the initials .of the series to be remembered. Thus young 
persons studying history can fix the names and order of the 
presidents of the United States by the following sentence : 
"Will a jolly man make a jolly visitor? Honor the person that 
finds pleasure by losing jolly guests having great ancestors." A 
still better sentence is the following: "Washington and Jefferson 
made many a juke ; Van Buren had trouble plenty to find poor 
bank-notes. Let Johnson go home greatly agitated." The sen- 
tence, " I seize a sieve," will enable one to remember the order of 
the e and i in the two words seize and sieve. 

Systems of Mnemonics. — Systems of Mnemonics have been 
invented from time to time, and recommended by various persons. 
They consist in some arrangement for making an artificial associ- 
ation between something used as a key and that which is to be 
remembered. To illustrate, suppose we commit a series of objects, 
numbering them from one to one hundred. Suppose number one 
is a pump, number two a bear, number three a goose, etc. Now 
to apply this to the kings of England, we might associate James 
I. with the pump, Charles I. with the bear, Charles II. with the 
goose, etc. The association might be impressed by a humorous 
relation ; as, " James pumps water on a bear which swallows 
Charles I. while Charles II. rides away on a goose." 

Value of Mnemonics. — In favor of such a system it may be 
said that wonderful feats may be performed by it in the remem- 
bering of abstract terms and dates. But the disadvantages are 
greater than the advantages. It trains the mind to an artificial 
relation, and thus weakens its power by neglecting to cultivate 
the natural method of association. The kino-s of England, for 
instance, should be remembered by their actual relation to one 
another and to historic events. The mere recollection of their 



166 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

names is of little value to the student. Besides, unless we are in 
constant use of the system, the key itself will vanish from the 
memory, and then everything goes with it. 

III. Application in Teaching. — All of the principles to 
which we have called attention will be found of great value 
to the student and teacher. A few suggestions for the applica- 
tion of these principles in the work of instruction will be of in- 
terest to teachers. 

The Alphabet. — In teaching the alphabet, the letters may be 
associated with forms that are similar to them ; as the letter 
with a ring or hoop, the letter A with a harrow, the letter X with 
a saw-horse, etc. Letters that are similar may be compared and 
those that are dissimilar contrasted. Teachers and writers of 
primers have found it useful to associate letters with words ; as 
" A for an Apple, B for a Book, C for some Candy, and D for a 
Duke." Such illustrations attract the attention, awaken an in- 
terest, and connect by the thread of association, — all of which 
are means of remembering. 

In Orthography. — The law of association can be employed 
in the study of orthography. Words of similar orthography 
should be associated ; as, fast, quick, and fast, to abstain from 
food. Words of similar pronunciation and unlike orthography, 
may be associated, the correct spelling being impressed by the 
contrast ; as, choir and quire, there and their, vein, vain, and vane. 

Words whose orthography it is difficult to remember may be 
associated with other words similarly spelled. Thus, to remem- 
ber whether the i or e comes first in piece, it may be associated 
with pie in the expression " a piece of pie." A lady remembered 
that there were two e's together in agreeable by being told to 
associate it with the fact that there were two agreeable gentlemen 
present when she asked the question. The word Alice is a key 
to the relative position of i and e, in such words as conceive and 
believe, when preceded by I or by c; from which we/can remember 
that e precedes i after the sound of s, and * precedes e after all 
other consonants. Some such artifices of association are especially 



THE CULTURE OF THE MEMORY. 167 

valuable in those peculiar cases in which we are confused in the 
spelling of particular words. 

In Geography. — The principle of association is especially 
valuable in the study of geography. In this way the size of 
states, the population of cities, etc., can be associated and readily 
retained. Thus take Pennsylvania, 46,000 square miles, for a 
standard ; and we have approximately, New York=Pennsylva- 
uia ; Louisiana=Pennsylvania ; Nevada=2 times Pennsylvania ; 
Texas=5 times Pennsylvania ; England=H- times Pennsylvania ; 
Scotland=f of Pennsylvania ; Ireland=f of Pennsylvania ; 
France=4£ times Pennsylvania ; Switzerland=i of Pennsylva- 
nia ; Denmark=i of Pennsylvania ; etc. 

Or again: England=Alabama (50,000); Scotland=Maine 
(30,000) ; Ireland— Indiana (33,000) ; Cuba=Tennessee (42,000); 
France— 4 times Alabama (50,000) ; Brazil=United States= 
Sahara Desert, etc. Taking Philadelphia as a standard, we may 
remember that the population of the following cities is about the 
same : Berlin, Vienna, Liverpool, St. Petersburg, Calcutta. 

Outlines of Subjects. — The classification of geographical facts 
by an outline is also of special value in learning geography. It 
enables us to classify our knowledge, which is a condition of re- 
membering it. An outline will also suggest facts which otherwise 
would not be recalled. It is especially valuable with classes in 
the recitation, enabling them to obtain their knowledge from any 
book, and to recall what might otherwise have slipped the memory. 

In History. — These principles are especially applicable in 
studying and teaching history. History is purely a memory 
study ; and whatever we may do to aid the memory will enhance 
our knowledge of history. The memory can be aided in the 
study of history by associating the facts in accordance with two 
of the primary laws of memory, those of cause and effect and 
contiguity in time and place. 

Cause and Effect. — First, facts should be associated, so far as 
possible, by the law of cause and effect. The mind naturally 
associates the events of history with the causes which produced 



10S TUKNTAL SCIENCE. 

them, and also looks forward from the facts to the results wliich 
flow from thorn; and such an association tends to iix the events 
permanently in the memory. Thus, wo may see the relation of 
the corruptions of the people of Rome ami the dissensions of the 
rulers to the tall oi' the Roman Empire; the preaching oi' Peter 
the Hermit to the Crusades; the extravagance ami corruption of 
the French riders to the French Revolution; the French Revolu- 
tion to the wealth oi' the French people; the persecution ol' the 
Puritans to the settlement oi' New England; the settlement and 
annexation oi' Texas to the Mexican war; etc. 

Same Time or Place. — Second, facts occurring- at the same time 
or place may he remembered by associating them together. Thus 
Hannibal and Scipio, the two great opposing generals, died the 
same year. 183 B. C. : the fall of Greece ami Carthage occurred 
on the same year, 146 B. 0.; Francis I. and Henry VIII. both 
died in 1547 ; Charles V. ami Mary Tudor both died in 1558; 
the tall of Granada and discovery of America occurred in 14^2 ; 
the battles oi' New Orleans and Waterloo were fought in 1815. 
So also we may associate events occurring an exact number of 
centuries apart ; as Mexico conquered by the Spaniards in 1521 
and her independence secured in 1821 ; or Bacon's Rebellion in 
1676, and the Declaration of Independence in 1770. 

J\ntt <(»(/ Epochs. — Third, there should be a classification of 
facts into epochs or eras. In every country there are great lead- 
ing events which stand as historic centres or nuclei around which 
revolve the minor events. Fixing the time of the principal or 
central events, we have a key to the dates of the facts related to 
them ami growing out of them. Thus, the Age of Pericles, the 
Age oi' Augustus, the Age of Elizabeth, the Crusades, the Refor- 
mation, etc.. coordinate events and persons in a way to be easily 
remembered. In the history of the United States, such divisions 
as discoveries, settlements, the French and Indian war, the Revo- 
lution, the Civil War, etc.. will serve to group the events of the 
country in a way to facilitate their acquisition and retention. 



THE IMAGINATION. 



CHARTER I. 

r J JJ i: NATURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 

rjlHE Imagination is the faculty by which we form ideal 
~L conceptions. It is the power of forming mental images by 
uniting different parts of objects given by perception, and also of* 
creating ideals of objects different from anything we have per- 
ceived. Thus, I can conceive of a flying horse by uniting my 
ideas of wings and a horse; or I can imagine a landscape or a 
strain of music, different from anything I have ever seen or heard. 
Imagination may thus be defined as the power of ideal creation. 

Origin of Term. — The term Imagination is derived from 
imago, an image. The etymology of the term indicates that its 
office is the formation of images; and this was the primary idea 
of the faculty, as the simplest products of imagination are images, 
or pictures of objects. But it is not restricted to mere picture 
making, for it can conceive of ideals in every department of men- 
tal activity. Thus it can conceive of a sound or a feeling as well 
as a statue or a landscape. 

The RepresentaUve Element. — The Imagination consists of 
two elements; a power which represents and a power which 
determines what to represent. The representative element of the 
imagination is regarded as the same as the representative element 
of the memory, but differently applied. Jn the memory, the 
images are formed according to the real and actual; in the imagi- 
nation they are formed according to the ideal and possible. The 
representative power in the memory gives an exact transcript of 
• 8 (169) 



170 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

some previous cognition; the imagination rises above the office 
of a mere copyist, and originates and represents new products. 
But in both cases .the representative element seems to be the same 
power working under different circumstances. In the former 
case, memory determines Avhat it represents; in the latter case a 
creative power of the mind uses it to body forth new ideals. 

Relation to Memory. — The faculty of imagination is closely 
related to the memory, though there is an essential difference 
between them. In an act of memory there is first a conservation 
or retention of knowledge ; second, a recalling or reproduction of 
past experience ; third, a picturing or representation of what is 
recalled out of unconsciousness ; and fourth, a recognition of what 
is recalled and represented as something of past experience. The 
materials of the representation are supplied by the recollection of 
what has been previously experienced and preserved in the mind. 
Retention and recollection lie back of and determine the represen- 
tation. In imagination the power of ideal creation lies back of 
and determines the representation. We represent, not what we 
have retained and recalled, but what the mind itself originates. 
In memory the representation is regarded as one of the elements 
of memory; so in imagination Ave may regard the representation, 
as Avell as the power which determines the representation, as an 
element of imagination. 

Illustration of Each. — To illustrate, I think of the home of my 
boyhood. It is pictured before my mind as if I were a boy again 
beholding it. I see the house, the garden, the barn, the orchard, 
just as they were when I was a lad at home. It is a picture of 
memory; the materials being supplied by recollection, and the 
image formed by the representative element. In imagination I 
can tear down the old homestead and build a new one, enlarge 
the barn, plant a new orchard, etc., and. thus cause a picture of 
a new and more beautiful home to stand distinctly before my 
mind. This is a picture of the imagination. The materials may 
be supplied partly by the memory and partly by the creative 
power of the mind ; but they are all united into a single product 
by the plastic power of Imagination. 



THE NATUKE OF THE IMAGINATION. 171 

I. The Products of Imagination. — The products of the 
imagination are twofold; New Combinations and New Creations. 
By New Combinations we mean the combination of past percep- 
tions into new forms, so that though the product may be new as a 
whole, the parts of which it is composed may be old. By New 
Creations we mean mental products in which not only the ideal 
as a whole, but each of its parts, shall be new. These differences 
actually exist in the products of the imagination, and need a 
name ; and it seems proper to distinguish them as New Combina- 
tions and New Creations. 

New Combinations. — The imagination has the poAver of com- 
bining old perceptious into new forms, giving us products which 
as wholes are not found in nature. Thus it may combine differ- 
ent parts of actual landscapes, forming an ideal landscape such as 
we have never seen. Or, it may unite the ideas of a horse and 
wings, giving the conception of a flying horse. Pegasus, the 
flying horse of Grecian mythology, is a product of the imagina- 
tion. A mountain of gold, a land flowing with milk and honey, 
are also examples of ideals consisting of a combination of old 
conceptions. 

New Creations. — The imagination can also form ideals 
which are not composed of previous perceptions, but which, 
though similar to, are different from and superior to our percep 
tions. Thus it can form an ideal landscape in which none of the 
parts are copies of any landscape we have seen, but which is in 
every respect an original product. It can imagine strains of 
music not found in nature or in the works of any musician. It 
can form ideals of beauty that are different from and superior to 
anything found in nature. Such products may be properly called 
new creations. 

Difference Illustrated. — This difference may be illustrated 
in the fine arts of painting, sculpture, music, poetry, etc. Thus 
an artist may paint a picture in which the grove, the river, the 
meadoAV, the moss-covered bridge, etc., are copies of things he has 
sketched from nature ; or he can paint a picture in which these 



172 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

features, as well as the whole picture, are ideals, so that not one 
object in the painting is a copy of anything he has seen. The 
sculptor cau unite in a statue lips, forehead, nose, head, neck, etc., 
each feature being a copy of what he may have seen in different 
persons ; or he can give us a statue in which every feature as well 
as the whole figure is his ideal of beauty. If we examine some 
pieces of music we shall find that though new as a whole, they 
are made up of old strains borrowed from different authors ; but 
when Beethoven composed, there came welling up from the depths 
of his wonderful imagination, melodies and harmonies never 
heard before by human ear. The former are mostly new combina- 
tions of the old ; the latter are new creations. 

The Elements Associated. — These two elements are often 
associated in the same production. Thus one portion of a work 
may be merely a combination of old percepts, while other portions 
are pure ideal creations. Much of the work of imagination con- 
sists in improving on or idealizing nature. Many portraits are 
not exact copies of the face, but are touched up by the fancy of 
the artist towards an ideal of perfection which the real face 
merely suggests. Even in the description of a real object or an 
actual landscape, imagination supplies many missing links, and 
gives a vividness and glow to the picture that pure memory can- 
not afford. In many of our so-called pictures of memory, the 
memory is not sufficiently exact to supply all the details, and 
these are filled out by the imagination. Fact and fancy are thus 
often united both in our recollections and in our imaginations. 

Important Distinction. — This distinction between new com- 
binations and new creations is a very important one, and if 
clearly understood will prevent the mistakes and misunderstand- 
ings that have occurred among writers on this subject. The test 
of a new combination is that the parts are percepts, — an exact 
image of something previously experienced : the test of a new 
creation is that no element is a percept, — an exact transcript of 
any previous experience. My mental picture of a horse, for ex- 
ample, may be an exact transcript of some horse I have seen ; if 



THE NATURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 173 

so, it is a picture of memory. It may be unlike any one horse, 
but composed of parts of different horses I have seen ; it is then 
a new combination. It may be not only new as a whole, but no 
part of it may be an exact transcript of any horse I have seen ; it 
is then a new creation. Imagination is thus seen to be more than 
a power to combine old perceptions, as some have erroneously 
taught. 

II. Forms op Imagination. — Imagination may act in different 
ways, and give us products which differ in respect to their har- 
mony, dignity, etc. These differences enable us to distinguish 
several distinct 'forms of the imaginative faculty. These forms 
may be embraced under three general classes; those of Phantasy, 
Fancy, and Imagination proper. 

The Phantasy . — The imagination can combine the parts of 
objects in entire disregard of the laws of harmony and unity, 
giving us products such as never occur in nature. Thus it may 
place the chimney of a house upon the hump of a camel, the head 
of a donkey on the neck of a man, or the head of a man on the 
shoulders of a horse. These products are grotesque or fantastic; 
and this form of imagination has been called Phantasy. This is 
the form which gives us the caricatures in illustrations and de- 
scriptions, and is the source of the various forms of wit and 
humor. 

The Fancy. — The imagination can unite objects or ideas 
under the more natural laws of association in forms attractive to 
the feelings and approved by the taste, yet without the higher 
ends of ideal creation. This form of the imagination has been 
called Fancy. It gives us many of the images of literature which 
claim our admiration, but which lack the unity, dignity, and per- 
fection of the products of the higher imagination. Many of our 
poets deal largely with images of the fancy. Longfellow's corn- 
par ison of the moon to a school-boy's paper kite is a mere fancy. 
The imagination of children and young poets inclines to the 
fanciful. Shakspeare's earlier writings partake more of the fancy 
than his later productions. 



174 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Imagination Proper. — When this faculty combines and 
creates according to the higher laws of thought and taste, embody- 
ing pure, lofty, and noble products in ideal forms, we have the 
Imagination proper. This is the artistic power of the mind, the 
power that gives us poetry, eloquence, music, sculpture, architect- 
ure, etc. Here we find the power of genius, the gift divine which 
gave ' immortality to Shakspeare and Milton, to Raphael and 
Michael Angelo, to Demosthenes and Cicero. Oat of this form 
of the imagination have arisen the great poems and fictions, the 
great paintings and statues, all those works of art which command 
the admiration of the world, and crown their authors with the 
chaplet of an undying fame. 

I. The Laws of the Imagination. 

Having given a general idea of the imagination, we shall now 
consider some of the circumstances or laws of its activity. These 
circumstances or laws, we shall find, are quite similar to those 
which we have already discussed under the memory. This simi- 
larity is not a matter of surprise, since they are both representative 
powers, and seem to involve the activity of a common representa- 
tive element. 

Imagination Involuntary . — First, we remark that many 
of the products of imagination are entirely involuntary. They 
arise of themselves, without any effort of the will, uncalled for 
and unwished. We often sit in a meditative or half-dreaming 
mood, when thoughts, memory, and imagination all seem to 
operate involuntarily. In a " train of thought," so-called, which 
seems to move forward without an act of volition, much of it will 
be purely imaginary, — past thoughts, new ideas and fancies, all 
seem to be blended together. The day-dreams of childhood and 
youth are usually not the result of an intentional effort of the 
mind ; the fancy builds its air-castles sometimes almost against 
the protest of the judgment, Some minds are so constituted that 
the imagination is constantly excited to activity by what they 
see and hear; every object of nature seems to suggest an image 



THE NATURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 175 

or an analogy. This is the poetic mind described by Longfellow: 
" His thoughts were twin-born ; the thought itself, and its figura- 
tive resemblance in the outer world. Thus, through the quiet, 
still waters of his soul each image floated double, 'swan and 
shadow.' " 

Imagination Voluntary. — The imagination is also volun- 
tary, as well as involuntary. Though images and figures often 
spring up involuntarily in the mind, yet they may also be produced 
by a direct effort of the will. We may build our air-castles, con- 
struct our figures, produce our imaginary incidents, or create an 
image of beauty, intentionally. Thus in writing, a person may 
hold himself down to a plain statement of facts and principles, or 
he may adorn his composition with the light of fancy. The 
essayist can adapt his style to his subject, being simple or orna- 
mental at his will. The orator often relieves the monotony of a 
dry statement or abstract argument by a brilliant metaphor, a 
flash of wit, or a sparkling analogy. The eloquent peroration 
often glows with the figures and feelings that the speaker calls up 
out of the depths of a vivid imagination. 

Principle of Suggestion. — The imagination operates in ac- 
cordance with the law of association and suggestion. Many of 
our fancies are suggested by sensible objects or by other images 
or fancies. The principle of analogy is usually operative in the 
forming of the images of the imagination. As the real images of 
the memory suggest one another, so do they suggest the unreal or 
ideal images of the imagination. One image calls out another 
image, one fancy another fancy, one strain of music another 
strain, one poetic thought another, etc. It is in this way that 
many of the figures of poetry arise. The freshness of morning 
suggests childhood and youth, and we say, " Youth is the morn- 
ing of life ;" the delicate whiteness of the lily reminds us of purity 
of character, and we say, "She is pure as a lily;" the oak re- 
minds vis of endurance, and we say, "He stood like the oak on the 
mountain ;" the lion becomes the type of courage, and we say, 
"He is the lion of the tribe of Judah." 



176 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Often Spontaneous. — Though the law of association is usu- 
ally operative in an act of the imagination, yet it may operate 
with spontaneity. Many of our imaginings are not only involun- 
tary, but are purely spontaneous ; that is, they are not suggested 
by any ideas or objects. In other words, they are not a part of a 
train of associated ideas and images, but arise in the mind with 
pure spontaneity. It is not necessary, as some have taught, that 
every act of the imagination should have been determined by 
some antecedent act of the mind. The mind has the poAver of 
creating an image of beauty, a picture of a landscape, or a stanza 
of poetry, unsuggested and at its own will, without its being con- 
ditioned by something immediately preceding it in the mind. In 
this respect it is like the memory, which, though often controlled 
by the laws of association, may also act independently of them. 
It is thus manifest that the imagination is not bound down to an 
inexorable law of antecedence and consequence in its operations, 
but is a free and spontaneous activity. 

Ambiguity of Suggestion. — Care must be used in employing 
the term suggestion in respect to mental products, or it will lead 
us into a serious error in regard to the mind's operations. This 
error consists in conceiving of the mind as a passive instrument 
operated upon by ideas, these ideas causing it to produce other 
ideas. Such a conception is totally false. The mind is a self 
activity and a cause of its own ideas. It operates by certain laws 
inherent in its own nature. One of these laws is that having one 
idea in the mind, it naturally passes to a similar idea or one re- 
lated to it. The true statement is that the mind passes in its crea- 
tions from one idea to a similar or a related idea; and this is all 
we mean by ideas suggesting one another. The idea is passive, 
has no power to suggest ; it is the mind that acts and passes from 
idea to idea by the laws of its own being. 

Sensible Forms. — The tendency of the imagination is to clothe 
its conceptions in sensible forms. The most of its creations are 
embodied or manifested in elements afforded by the senses. The 
senses give us- our ideas of form, color, sound, motion, etc. ; and 



THE NATURE OF THE IMAGINATION". 177 

these are the materials most frequently used by the imagination 
in its creations. The larger part of its ideals, no matter how 
elevated or refined, are put forth in some one or more of these 
elements of the senses. Thus our ideals of a statue, a landscape, 
a strain of music, etc., are all related to objects of sense. A fig- 
ure of rhetoric is the expression of the i*elation of one object to 
another, or the representation of an abstract or spiritual element 
in sensible form; as, "The rose is the queen of flowers," or, 
" Truth is the king of virtues." 

Abstract to Concrete, — The imagination tends naturally to 
convert abstract ideas and thoughts into sensible forms. It is 
this faculty, more than any other, that tends to carry over our 
abstract notions from the world of abstraction to the world of 
sense. Thus we speak of purity as a crown, of lowliness as a lad- 
der, of modesty as a jewel, of the attraction of the earth as the 
" elastic thread of gravity," etc. By this power the orator makes 
the abstract and intangible stand before the mind's eye in sensible 
forms. The faculty of imagination thus " bodies forth the forms 
of things unknown " and, as it were, " gives to airy nothings a 
local habitation and a name." 

Not Restricted to Sight. — The imagination is not restricted 
to any one class of objects of sense. Though it seems more fre- 
quently to fashion its products after the ideas afforded by sight, 
yet it is not merely a picture-making faculty. It deals with 
objects of sound as well as of sight. We can conceive the song 
of a bird, or a melody on a flute, or melodies and harmonies, in- 
dependent of any instrument, all different from any we have ever 
heard. The musician imagines how his music will sound before 
he expresses it in notes or plays it on an instrument. Through 
the mind of deaf old Beethoven floated melodies and harmonies 
more enchanting than had ever before fallen on human ear. 

Acts in All the Senses. — The imagination is not restricted to 
sight and sound, but it may deal with the products of all the 
senses. Thus we can in imagination enjoy the taste of a good 
dinner, or the fragrance of a flower, or experience the feeling of 



178 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

lassitude, pain, etc. The gelidae fontes of Virgil, it has been said, 
awakens a feeling of delicious coolness, as well as an image of 
sparkling beauty. 

II. Limits and Sphere of the Imagination. 

Having given this general description of the nature and laws 
of the imagination, we shall now proceed to discuss its limits and 
the sphere of its activity. 

I. Limits op the Imagination. — The imagination has a cer- 
tain range of activity, beyond which it cannot operate. It is 
thus limited in its operations; and it is proper to understand just 
what these limitations are. 

Limited by Space. — The imagination is limited in its opera- 
tions by the condition of space. First, we cannot imagine space 
not to exist ; the imagination cannot annihilate space. Second, it 
cannot, in any of its oj:>erations, step outside of spatial conditions ; 
whatever I conceive must be in space. Third, if its conceptions 
relate to a material object, such object must possess some of the 
elements of space. 

Limited hi/ Matter. — The imagination is limited by the sev- 
eral laws of material existence. This follows from the relation 
of matter to space, as the condition of its being. As limited by 
the elements of space, the imagination is necessarily limited by all 
the essential qualities of matter determined by space. It can 
vary these qualities, but it cannot conceive of a body that does 
not possess the primary qualities of bodies. Moreover, it cannot 
create a new primary quality of bodies. It can conceive of a 
body without some of the secondary qualities, but it is doubtful 
whether it can create a new secondary quality. Given the two 
primary colors, blue and yellow, it is doubtful whether we could 
ever imagine the result of their combination, green; though Hume 
thought we could. We may vary the combinations and relations 
of the secondary qualities, conceive of imaginary bars of gold 
floating in water, or pieces of cork sinking, like bars of lead, to 
the bottom ; but no stretch of the imagination can create any new 
property, such as color, form, weight, flavor, etc. 



THE NATURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 179 

Limited by Time. — The imagination is limited by the condi- 
tion of time, as well as of space. Whatever it represents or con- 
ceives must be in the sphere of time. All of its creations must 
be either past, present, or future. It cannot imagine an event 
outside of time; but in this sphere it has unlimited range. It 
can imagine past events as actually taking place, put itself amid 
scenes that occurred thousands of years ago, or sweep forward on 
bolder wing and picture what may take place thousands of years 
to come. But it cannot transcend these limits and originate 
events anterior or subsequent to time, or conceive events that are 
not related by the element of time. 

Limited by the Mind. — The imagination is limited by the 
general laws of mind as revealed in consciousness. We cannot, 
by the imagination, create a new faculty, or conceive of a spirit- 
ual existence having faculties entirely different from those of the 
human mind. We may modify the action of these faculties ; in- 
crease or diminish their power ; invert, mix, and confuse these 
activities ; or we may even destroy one or more of the faculties 
altogether. Thus, we may imagine a sub-consciousness, or a dual 
consciousness, by which a j)erson may carry on two independent 
lines of mental activity ; but Ave cannot imagine a mind without 
any consciousnesss whatever. We may conceive of a mind that 
can remember objects and not names, or names and not objects; 
or a mind that can reason inductively and not deductively, and 
vice versa; or one that reaches all truths by intuition instead of 
reasoning. All this can be done, but to create new powers or 
lines of activity is beyond the power of the imagination. 

II. Sphere of the Imagination. — Having seen the limits 
of the imagination, we proceed to consider the sphere of its 
operations, or to inquire what is its sphere within these limits. 
In general, we remark that its sphere embraces the entire range 
of mental activity. This subject will be made clear by the fol- 
lowing details. 

Material Existences. — The imagination deals especially with 
material existences. The objects of the physical world are the 



180 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

materials with wliich*it works, and out of which it fashions many 
of its products. These objects of sense are moulded into every 
conceivable form by the plastic power of this faculty. The man- 
ner in which it operates with this material will be noticed. 

Vary the Size. — The imagination can vary the size of objects 
at its will. We can conceive o'f objects small or large without 
respect to the limits of reality. Thus we can conceive of a mouse 
as large as an elephant, or an elephant as small as a mouse, a bird 
as large as a whale, or a whale as small as a minnow, etc. It can 
create horses small enough for the tiniest fairy to ride, or swallows 
large enough to carry a family across the Atlantic. An oak-tree 
may be made to groAV under a glass thimble, having acorns no 
larger than pinheads, or a bean-stalk may be led up beyond the 
clouds into a fairy-land of fierce ogres and golden-egged hens. 

Vary the Position. — The imagination can vary the position 
of objects at pleasure. In nature material objects sustain certain 
natural relations to one another. Thus mountains hold certain 
relations to valleys, woods to meadows, rivers to lowlands, etc.; 
but the imagination is not restricted to any such arrangements. 
It can put a mountain in the centre of a valley, slope a prairie 
on a hillside, plant a garden in a desert, and combine trees, rocks, 
fountains, streamlets, etc., in a manner never seen in nature. It 
can change the natural position of the parts of organic beings, 
putting the nose at the back of the head, the eyes at the elbows, 
the ears at the knees, etc. 

Vary the Form. — The imagination can vary the forms of 
objects at its pleasure. It can modify the shape of trees, animals, 
flowers, clouds, etc., producing forms more beautiful or grotesque 
than nature affords. Thus it can make a willow as straight as a 
pine ; or give to a spruce-tree branches as spreading as those of 
an oak. It can create a rose with triangular or elliptical petals, 
make crows with graceful forms and voices like a nightingale's, 
form cows as light-footed as gazelles, and conceive of horses as ugly 
and awkward as an elephant. The forms of objects are as flexible 
in the hands of imagination, as clay in the hands of the potter. 



THE NATURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 181 

Vary the Color. — The imagination can vary the color of 
objects at its pleasure. We can imagine a green sky, blue fields, 
red foliage on the trees, white grass in the meadows, or black 
snow on the hill-sides. We can touch the cheek with the most 
delicate pink or the healthy glow of the rose, make the eye as 
dark as midnight or give it a heavenly blue, paint the evening 
sky with golden colors and robe the summer landscape with all 
the splendors of autumn. 

Idealize Objects. — The imagination can idealize nature or 
conceive of it under forms more perfect or beautiful than those in 
which it appears to us. Thus, we can picture an ideal horse more 
symmetrical than any we have ever seen, or conceive of an ideal 
of female loveliness more perfect than any we have ever met. 
The ideals of grace which the sculptor's hand embodies in mar-, 
ble, are superior to anything nature has ever presented to him. 
The artist does not, as was said of the Grecian painter, assemble 
all the most celebrated beauties that he might borrow a charm 
from each, and combine them into a perfect figure ; but from the 
models he sees in nature he forms an ideal of beauty which trans- 
cends anything found in nature. Nature seems to be aiming at 
an ideal of beauty which she never reaches ; the imagination of 
the artist mounts up to this ideal and thus, as we say, idealizes the 
realities of nature. The Apollo Belvidere, the Venus de Medici, 
the Madonnas of Raphael, are all superior to anything that the 
artists ever saw ; though they may have been suggested by per- 
sons that the artists had seen. 

Create Neiv Objects. — The imagination can create new objects 
in space different from anything we have ever seen. We can 
imagine new animals, new plants, new strains of music, new fig- 
ures of rhetoric, etc. Cuvier's imagination, aided by his judg- 
ment, created a new animal from a single fossil bone. The geo- 
logist has never seen the pterodactyl, and yet he gives us a 
picture of this wonderful monster. So we might conceive of a 
new plant, a new flower, or a new species of tree, differing from 
these we know quite as much as those known differ from one 
another. 



182 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Seen in tlie Arts. — This creative power of imagination is espe- 
cially noticeable in the arts. Every great work of art is, to a 
certain extent, a creation. The sweet melodies of Mozart and 
the wonderful harmonies of Beethoven never were heard in 
nature ; they were born in the imagination of these great musi- 
cians. The characters of Shaksp"eare came from the brain of this 
"myriad-minded" genius without a type in nature; and they 
stand out as real as if they were actual characters of history. 
The "Conception" of Murillo and the "Transfiguration" of 
Raphael are neither a copy nor an idealization of the actual ; 
they are the creations of a heaven-born genius. 

Ideals of Form. — The imagination can deal with the ele- 
ments of space independently of material objects. We can con- 
ceive of every variety of form, not filled with matter, but as forms 
of pure space. All the geometrical elements may be thus con- 
ceived. The ideal line, surface, or volume, is not a real material 
thing. These elements can be combined by the imagination, in a 
countless variety of forms, not as imitations of or copies of any- 
thing seen in nature, but by the mind's own power of original 
conception. Thus we may have circles, ellipses, cycloids, spirals, 
spheres, spiheroids, etc., ad infinitum. 

Ideal Events. — The imagination also deals with events as 
occurring in time, and modifies them at its pleasure. It can pic- 
ture actual events as they were supposed to occur, rearrange them 
for dramatic effect, or sweep them away altogether, and substi- 
tute for them events of its own creation. It can stand with the 
Almighty when "in the beginning" he spake light into being, 
listen to the converse of Adam and Eve when they walked in 
primeval innocence, go with Moses up Sinai's height to receive 
the tables of the law, bow with the wise men at the shrine of the 
holy babe of Bethlehem, or stand by the cross, thrilled with 
compassion by the sublime words, " It is finished." It can draw 
the veil of the future, and paint glowing pictures of the glory of 
the republic, weep at its decadence and the downfall of liberty, 
follow loved ones to the darkness of the tomb and even into the 



THE NATUKE OF THE IMAGINATION. 183 

land of silence, catch glimpses of the celestial beauty of the New 
Jerusalem, and. join in the chorus of the redeemed as they sur- 
round the throne of Jehovah. 

Ideals of Mental Products. — The imagination can deal also 
with spiritual existences as well as material ones. It can conceive 
not only of the products of the senses, but of the action and pro- 
ducts of all the faculties of the mind. Thus we can conceive of 
a judgment, a process of reasoning, an axiom of mathematics, a 
truth of science, etc. We may not be able to define just how the 
imagination operates with these abstractions, but that it does so is 
a fact that must be admitted. So also we can conceive of the 
products of the sensibilities. I can imagine joy and grief, affec- 
tion and hatred, melancholy and cheerfulness, ambition and 
pride. I can imagine my heart bounding with joy or cast down 
with sorrow, thrilling with some beautiful strain of music, or 
elevated and awed by some grand scene of nature. So also I can 
imagine an act of the will, a choice between motives, the execu- 
tive volition, and the act resulting from it. 

Ideals of Character. — The imagination is especially interested 
in creating and embodying the moral and social attributes of the 
soul which constitute character. Here we find its highest sphere 
of activity, and in this sphere it has attained its highest achieve- 
ments. It is in this that the great dramatic and epic writers 
have been especially distinguished. Homer and Virgil delight 
us with their poetical images, their moral sentiments, and descrip- 
tions of natural scenery ; but it is in their characterizations that 
they call forth the highest tributes of our hearts and judgments. 
Here lies the power of the great novelists, — Dickens, Thackeray, 
Scott, and others. It is Milton's Satan and Goethe's Mejihisto- 
pheles that render their works immortal. It is in the creation of 
character that Shakspeare stands so pre-eminently above all other 
writers ; and these creations move before us with all the reality 
of the characters of history. His Hamlet, Macbeth, and Othello, 
are as real to us as Csesar, Richard III. or Henry VIII ; and we 
almost forget that Ariel, Caliban, and Portia are mere creations 
of the poet's brain. 



184 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

III. Other Views of the Imagination. 

Writers seem to differ more in their views of- the nature and 
functions of the imagination than of any other faculty. It will 
be interesting and instructive to notice some of these views. 

Hamilton's View. — Sir William Hamilton regards the imag- 
ination as a complex power, the basis of which is representation. 
He defines the Representative faculty as "the power the mind 
has of holding up vividly before itself the thoughts which by the 
act of representation, it has recalled into consciousness." The 
term Imagination, he adds, which denotes most nearly the repre- 
sentative process, does so, " not without an admixture of other 
processes." The imagination is thus not a simple faculty ; it con- 
sists of the "representative power plus the process to which I 
would give the name comparison." He objects to the terms 
Productive and Reproductive Imagination, and claims that the 
"imagination creates nothing, that is, produces nothing new." 
He says that there are three principal orders in which the imag- 
ination represents ideas: 1. Thef natural order; 2. The logical 
order; 3. The poetical order. The previous discussion will enable 
the student to point out the errors of this view. 

Brotvn's View. — Dr. Brown resolves the imagination into 
simple suggestion, accompanied with desire and judgment. We 
think of a mountain, we think of gold, and unite these two ideas 
into the complex conception of a mountain of gold. This may 
be purely spontaneous ; or it may be the result of desire, the 
judgment deciding what we shall unite; but in both cases the 
process is essentially the same. Dr. Brown says " we may term 
this state or series of states Imagination or Fancy, and the term 
may be convenient for brevity ; but we must not forget that it is 
still the name of a state that is complex and not a distinct faculty 
of the mind." This is really a denial of the faculty of imagina- 
tion altogether, and an application of the term to a complex pro- 
cess arising from the combined operation of several different 
faculties. 

Active and Passive. — Dr. Wayland distinguishes between 



THE NATUEE OP THE IMAGINATION. 185 

what lie calls Active and Passive Imagination. " We have the 
power to originate images and pictures for ourselves, and we have 
the power to form them as they are presented in language. The 
former may be called Active and the latter Passive Imagination." 
The active, he holds, always includes the passive, but the passive 
does not include the active, since we often see persons who " can 
enjoy the products of the imagination who cannot create them." 

This difference in imaginative power, though admitted, is a 
difference of degree and not of kind. It is not that one person 
has a different imagination from another ; but that one has more 
imagination than another. Such a difference is not confined to 
the faculty of the imagination, but is common to all the faculties. 
A person may be able to follow a complicated demonstration who 
might not have been able to originate it; but it does not follow 
on this account that he has a different kind of reasoning faculty 
from the one who produced it. 

A Combining Power. — It has been held by a large number 
of writers that the imagination is merely the power of combina- 
tion ; that it does not include a creative element. It is said that 
all the elements which enter into a product of the imagination 
existed previously, and that all that the imagination does is to 
unite them into one whole. Thus a painting is a mere combina- 
tion of forms and colors, an oratorio of sounds, an epic poem of 
.words or ideas previously existing in the mind. The elements of 
a poem like Paradise Lost — its streams, flowers, rivers, angels, and 
deities, — were all in the mind of the poet before he began to write, 
and all that the imagination did was to combine them into one 
harmonious whole. 

Objection to this Vieiv. — This view of imagination, which is 
very common, is not only inadequate but incorrect. Its error is 
the greater, not that it states what is entirely untrue, but that it 
fails to state the whole truth and the greater truth. Every work 
of art is in a sense a combination, just as every process of reason- 
ing is a combination. We unite sounds in music, words in a 
poem, colors in a painting, etc. ; but do sounds, and words, and 



186 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

colors, make these productions works of art? Every one can 
unite these elements; but not every one can be a poet, painter, or 
musician. It is the manner in which we unite them that gives a 
creation of beauty ; and this power of ideal conception which uses 
these dead elements to express its living ideals, is the work of the 
imagination. It is the beautiful image of the poet which he uses 
words to describe that is the work of the imagination, and not the 
mere combination of words. It is the ideal landscape that is the 
work of the imagination, and not the mere combination of colors 
on the canvas. The view is false in that it lifts up into promin- 
ence a merely incidental circumstance, and forgets or ignores the 
essential element. 

Imagination Creative. — The imagination, as previously 
stated, is a creative as well as a combining power. It is not a 
mere copyist of nature ; it can create forms of excellence and 
beauty which transcend anything found in nature. The eye has 
never seen a perfect circle, the hand cannot construct one, but the 
imagination can conceive it. The most delicate tracery of art 
cannot make a straight line ; but there is in the mind a concep- 
tion of one that is perfectly straight. The artist may have seen a 
face or form of rare beauty ; . but there is in his soul an ideal 
beauty of form and feature far transcending anything he ever be- 
held. Any one can take different strains which he has heard and 
unite them into a tune that may be new as a whole; but the 
imagination of genius can give us melodies and harmonies that 
both in wholes and in parts have never been heard before. 

A Plastic Power. — The imagination can combine objects of 
sense into new forms, but it can do more than this. The objects 
of sense are, in most cases, merely the materials with which it 
works. The imagination is a plastic power, moulding the things 
of sense into new forms to express its ideals; and it is these ideals 
that constitute the real products of the imagination. The objects 
of the material world are to it like clay in the hands of the pot- 
ter ; it shapes them into forms according to its own ideals of 
grace and beauty. 



THE NATURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 187 

Creates the Fine Arts. — The creative power of the imagina- 
tion is especially seen in the fine arts. In the imagination of the 
poet arise visions of loveliness such as no mortal eye hath seen, 
and it bodies them forth in the living words of the tender sonnet, 
the stirring drama, or the sublime epic. The imagination of. the 
sculptor sees forms of beauty sleeping in a cold block of marble, 
and with hammer and chisel he cuts away the rubbish which im- 
prisons his ideal, and there stands before us a form of loveliness 
which commands the admiration of the world. There come float- 
ing through the mind of the musician strains of surpassing- 
beauty, as if echoes from the choirs of the celestial world, and 
they are revealed and preserved in the immortal melodies and 
harmonies of a Mozart or Beethoven. He who sees no more than 
a mere- combination in these creations of the imagination, misses 
the essential element and elevates into significance that which is 
merely incidental. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE CULTURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 

HAVING discussed the nature of the imagination, we now 
proceed to consider the method of developing this power. 
In order to impress the mind with the importance of this culture, 
we shall first speak of the value of the imagination and then of 
the methods of cultivating it. 

I. Value of the Imagination. — The imagination is of great 
value to us in every department of life. It contributes largely to 
the happiness of man, and is the source of some of his most im- 
portant achievements. To it literature and the fine arts owe their 
origin, and even science and philosophy are largely indebted to 
this power. Indeed, no faculty is capable of greater intellectual 
achievements or is the source of more exquisite and refined en- 
joyments. Some of the advantages of this faculty will be briefly 
noticed. 

Of General Value. — The imagination is of general service to 
man in every department of life. In the beautiful language of 
Dr. Haven, " It gives vividness to our conceptions, it raises the 
tone of our entire mental activity, it adds force to our reasoning, 
casts the light of fancy over the sombre plodding steps of judg- 
ment, gilds the recollections of the past and the anticipations of 
the future with a coloring not their own. It lights up the whole 
horizon of thought, as the sunrise flashes along the mountain tops 
and lights up the world. It would be but a dreary world with- 
out this light." 

Value to Thought. — The imagination is of great service to 
the thinker, to whom it is generally supposed to be of the least 
value. In mathematics, it gives sensible forms to abstract truth, 

(188) 



THE CULTURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 189 

enabling us to hold before our minds the diagram as a visible 
representation of the quantity upon which we reason. The inven- 
tor puts his machine together in imagination before his idea is 
realized in wood and iron. The general fights his battles on the 
plains of imagination before he marshals his regiments for the 
real conflict. The astronomer could hardly pursue his investiga- 
tions among the stars, did not imagination give him a picture of 
the celestial phenomena. 

To Inductive Thought. — Imagination is especially useful in 
inductive thought. It aids the mind in rising from the facts to 
the cause which produces or the law which controls them. We 
see the facts, but the law stands above them; and Imagination, 
taking Thought by the hand, runs up the ladder of facts and finds 
the law shining in the overarching sphere of the ideal above. 
The cause or law often begins in a mere hypothesis ; and these 
hypotheses are largely due to the imagination. They arise by 
what Laplace calls " a great guess," or what Plato so beautifully 
designates as " a sacred suspicion of truth." They are the results, 
as Thomson says, of " an active imagination supplied with 
materials by a clear understanding carefully developed, that 
gives the power of penetrating nature before the evidence is un- 
folded." " The torch of imagination," says Mtiller, " is as neces- 
sary for him who searches for truth as the lamp of study. 
Kepler held both and more than this ; he had the star of faith to 
guide him in all things from darkness to light." 

To the Poet. — Imagination is the soul of poetry. A poem is 
filled with ideal conceptions. To the poetic mind, the forms 
of nature become symbols of thought and feeling ; and insensate 
matter is transformed into living objects by the touch of the poet's 
genius. The stars become "the forget-me-nots of the angels," 
"the morn in russet mantle clad walks o'er the dew of yon high 
eastern hill," the darkness falls from the wings of passing night, 
and the mooniight falls asleep upon a bank of flowers. The 
imagination of the epic and dramatic poet becomes peopled with 
new characters and incidents. Lucifer, the son of the morning, 



190 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

rebels against God; Hamlet dreams away his melancholy life; 
Titania comes out of fairy-land with her sportive tricks ; Portia 
speaks her golden words concerning mercy ; and the May Queen 
touches the heart with tender feelings by her early death. 

To the Artist. — Imagination is also the source of the fine arts. 
By it the sculptor conceives forms of beauty which, Avhen realized 
in marble, become the treasures of the world. The Venus of the 
Tribune, the Apollo Belvidere, the Faun of Praxiteles, the Venus 
de Milo, will cause the heart to thrill with admiration for ages to 
come. By it the painter forms his ideals of beauty which even 
the canvas can only faintly express ; and yet, when thus realized, 
they fill the soul with celestial visions of loveliness. The frescos 
of the Vatican, the Transfiguration of Raphael, the Immaculate 
Conception of Murillo, reveal the wonderful creations of the artist's 
imagination. So too, from the depths of the musician's: imagina- 
tion come melodies and harmonies that seem to echo with the 
strains of the angelic world, and awaken in the soul of the listener 
emotions of the infinite. 

To the Orator. — Imagination is the soul of oratory. By it 
the orator presents his thoughts in concrete form, visible to the 
eye as well as audible to the ear. By its aid he reaches the secret- 
springs of feeling, commands those skillful touches that thrill the 
soul as by magic, and plays upon the minds and hearts of his 
audience like a great musician sweeping his harp-strings, moving 
them to laughter or tears, to indignation or enthusiasm, at his 
will. It gives the orator -an ideal of what his argument should 
be, toward which he ever aspires if he attains to true eloquence, 
such as has rendered the names of Demosthenes, Burke, and 
Webster immortal. 

To Other Minds. — This faculty is of benefit not merely to 
the poet, the artist, and the orator, but to every mind. It gives 
a light and beauty to the incidents of life that might otherwise be 
dry, sombre, and repulsive. It gilds the present with an ideal 
beauty, paints the future with hues of joy and brightness, hangs 
the star of hope in the sky of coming manhood, and enables us to 



THE CULTURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 191 

look beyond the darkness of the grave, and catch glimpses of the 
bliss and beauty of the life to come. Life would often be dull 
and dreary, and heaven little more than an abstraction, were it 
not for the bright visions of joy this faculty reveals to us. 

Value to Character. — Imagination is of especial value in the 
formation and development of character. By it we obtain new 
ideals of life, — ideals of what we hope and wish to be, — and these 
ideals are the types to which we endeavor to mould ourselves. If 
the type is pure and noble, we grow purer and nobler as we 
endeavor to realize it ; if it is low and ignoble, we grow more and 
more debased as we follow it. Life is thus artistic ; we are all 
artists, the artists of character, ever trying to realize our ideals 
of that which is purer and better and nobler than ourselves. We 
carve, not in wood or marble, but in mind and heart ; we mould, 
not in clay or plaster, but in plastic and immortal soul; we 
shape, not the dead, cold marble which will crumble to dust, but 
the warm, active spirit that will survive the wreck of matter and 
the crush of worlds. We are largely what our ideals of character 
make us. 

Of Great Value. — Dr. Haven, in discussing this subject, has 
a paragraph so full of beautiful thought that it is worthy of being 
committed to memory. " Especially is it of value in forming and 
holding before the mind an ideal of excellence in whatever we 
pursue, a standard of attainment, practicable and desirable, but 
loftier far than anything we have yet reached. To present such 
an ideal is the work of the imagination, which looks not upon the 
actual, but the possible, and conceives that which is more perfect 
than the human eye hath seen, or the human hand wrought. No 
man ever yet attained excellence in any art or profession, who 
had not floating before his mind, by day and by night, such an 
ideal and vision of what he might and ought to be and to do. It 
hovers before him, and hangs over him, like the bow of promise 
and of hope, advancing with his progress, ever rising as he rises, 
and moving onward as he moves; he will never reach it, but 
without it he would never be what he is." 



192 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

II. Methods of Cultivating the Imagination. — Having 

discussed the importance of the culture of the imagination, we 
now proceed to present a few thoughts on the methods by which 
this culture may be given. The imagination may receive culture 
in at least four ways: first, by exercise; second, by the study of 
nature ; third, by the study of the fine arts ; and fourth, by the 
creation of imaginary productions. 

1. By Exercise.— The general law of cultivating the imag- 
ination is that of exercise. Every activity of the mind is devel- 
oped by being brought into activity; and the imagination is 
cultivated in accordance with this general law. This exercise is 
often given involuntarily, as in the case of those who become dis- 
tinguished in literature, influenced by natural taste or by some 
early circumstances. Such exercise can also be given intention- 
ally and in accordance with a well-matured system; and it is 
suggested that it be so given. Care should be taken that this 
exercise be judicious, and subject to good taste and the authority 
of reason. 

Exercise Judicious. — The exercise of the imagination of the 
young should be judicious in kind and quantity. The dull and 
torpid imagination should be stimulated ; the over-active imag- 
ination should be curbed and directed. The boy with sluggish 
fancy may be led to read such books as will awaken his mind 
to imaginative thought ; while care should be taken that the 
dreamy lad does not confine his reading to works of fiction and 
thus over-stimulate his naturally active imagination. Care should 
also be taken to prevent day-dreaming and the cherishing of 
visionary fancies that lead to discontent and a distaste for the 
practical affairs of every-day life. Visions of high attainments in 
after life may be encouraged and incited, and the examples of 
eminent men may be held up as ideals for imitation and emula- 
tion. The books that young people read should be selected with 
care, so that the ideals early implanted in the mind may be of a 
noble and exalted character. 

Subject to Taste. — The exercise of the imagination should be 



THE CULTUEE OF THE IMAGINATION. 193 

subject to good taste. The faculty should not be permitted to 
run riot among the productions of literature and art, and become 
warped by false or unworthy models. Only the best and most 
refined works of the imagination should be placed before the 
minds of the young. The great masters of art and literature? 
whose productions are in accordance with the cultivated taste of 
mankind, should be the models after which we should endeavor 
to mould the youthful imagination. We should aim to cultivate 
a refined and elevated taste in the young, that will give beauty 
and excellence to their own imaginings, and euable them to judge 
of and appreciate the creations of the great writers and artists. 

Subject to Heason. — The exercise of the imagination should 
be subject to the guidance of the reason. In the human soul 
there is a power which comprehends the beautiful and gives us 
our ideals of beauty. These ideals are independent of those pre- 
sented in art, and superior to those perceived in nature. They 
are the products of the higher reason, and are the soul's highest 
guide to artistic conception and expression. Towards these high 
ideals the imagination should w r ork, endeavoring to conform its 
products to the types of excellence that the reason affords. The 
creations of art thus become inspired with an inner life and a liv- 
ing soul, and rise to a plane of perfection they could not other- 
wise reach. 

2. By the Study of Nature. — In order to afford culture to 
the imagination, we should give it exercise among the varied 
objects of the natural world. Here we shall find a wealth of 
material to excite and direct the activity of this faculty. Nature 
seems to have slept like a dream of beauty in the imagination of 
the great Artificer ; God put forth his creative hand, and the 
thoughts of his soul became the facts of the world. v These works 
of the divine artist reveal his beautiful imaginings. The domain 
of nature is thus boundless in her wealth of artistic expression ; 
her beauties of form, color, and sound, are infinite in variety. This 
means of culture is of especial value, since every one has ready 
access to it. Nature's picture-galleries are always open to us; 



194 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

her objects of beauty invite our study without money and without 
price. Her halls of statues are never under lock and key ; they 
can be visited at any time without our being required to obtain 
permission of owner or keeper. 

Ideals of Beauty.— The study of nature gives us ideals of 
beauty. The objects of the natural world are an embodiment of 
beautiful ideals,— of ideals formed in the mind of the Creator be- 
fore he put forth his creative hand. These ideals were the pat- 
terns or types after which nature was moulded ; and the objects 
of nature thus furnish pur miuds with forms of loveliness fash- 
ioned after divine ideals. We do not always find perfection in 
nature; the objects of the natural world are not always the reali- 
zation of the perfection of the divine ideals ; but they are at least 
typical of the perfect beauty of the conceptions of the divine 
Artist, and suggest to us ideals higher than those which they 
embody. 

These Become Types. — These ideals of nature linger in the 
mind, and become types of our own ideal conceptions. The land- 
scapes of nature are the patterns of our own ideal landscapes ; the 
colors of the autumn woods train to the perception of richness of 
coloring in art; the shady forest, the sloping meadow, the rip- 
pling streamlet, the heaving ocean, all are the models of the ideal 
conceptions of the artist. The memory may thus become a grand 
picture-gallery, with its walls hung with pictures of nature which 
are the models of our own ideal conceptions. 

Such Ideals Stimulate. — These beautiful pictures of nature 
not only serve as types for our ideal conceptions, but they 
stimulate the imagination to activity. The perception of beauty 
excites the imagination to the creation of beauty. The relation 
between a picture of memory and a picture of the imagination is 
so intimate that the former excites the imagination to activity to 
create the latter. It is thus that varied scenery tends to give an 
imaginative cast to the mind. A mind developed amid the same- 
ness of a prairie landscape, would not naturally incline to imagin- 
ative production. Rocks, hills, mountains, woods, sea-shore, etc., 



THE CULTURE OF THE IMAGINATION". 195 

stimulate the mind to the conception, of forms of grace and sub- 
limity, and train to artistic preferences and longings. 

Example of Artists. — The truth of these statements is illus- 
trated by the example of artists. They are especially susceptible 
to the beauty of the works of nature ; and they make them the 
basis of their own productions. The painter travels and sketches, 
and fills his portfolio with choice bits of natural scenery. The 
sculptor never misses a fine face or graceful pose, but is ever fuiv 
nishing his memory with forms of grace and loveliness. The true 
poet is in deep sympathy with nature, and catches inspiration 
from her varied forms and her exquisite combinations. Bryant's 
Thanatopsis, Shelley's Skylark, Shakespeare's Tempest and Twelfth 
Niglvt, all attest the influence of nature on the imagination. 

Things to Observe. — Nature is full of objects which incite the 
mind to activity and become our ideals of beautiful imaginings. 
We should fill our memories with pictures of her beauties — her 
flowers, trees, streamlets, cascades, lakes and rivers, autumn 
woods, meadows of spring time, mountain scenery, sunrises and 
sunsets, starry nights, moonlight evenings, the arching sky, the 
fleecy clouds, the ocean, a thunderstorm, etc. Each one of these 
objects, with illustrations from the poets, would furnish the 
material for an essay, in which it could be shown how nature 
gives activity and culture to the imagination. 

Spiritualize Nature. — We should not only observe the ob- 
jects and facts of nature, but endeavor to spiritualize them ; we 
should endeavor to trace the analogies between the natural and 
the spiritual world. The objects of the material world are but 
the thoughts of the Creator, and they reveal the beauty and imag- 
inings of the divine mind. Every form of beauty is thus a type 
of some ideal ; and it is our privilege to trace these analogies, and 
seek the thought of which the fact is the symbol. We can thus 
idealize nature, using the concrete object to illustrate the abstract 
thought. The poet's mind transmutes form and color into 
thought and feeling, and sees the " facts of the world but as the 
thoughts of the Creator." The lowly daisy becomes the symbol 



196 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

of modesty ; the snow-white lily, the type of purity ; the strong 
old oak, the emblem of majesty and grandeur ; and the starry 
sky the floor of heaven " inlaid with patines of pure gold." 

3. By the Study of Art- — We may also cultivate the imagina- 
tion by the study of the fine arts. Works of art as the products 
of the imagination, give exercise to the imagination, and thus train 
it to a healthful activity. That which came from the mind of the 
creator gives kindred exercise to the mind of the beholder. Fre- 
quent exercise in this way begets a habit of imaginative activity, 
that enables one to create ideal conceptions of his own. 

Afford Ideals. — These works of art become ideals for our 
own imaginations. They are the types of beauty towards which 
we shape our own creations of beauty. The masterpieces of 
Greek art will be models in sculpture as long as the world en- 
dures. The paintings of Raphael and the frescos of Michael 
Angelo will shape the taste and genius of artists for centuries to 
come. Every student of the fine arts endeavors to fill his mind 
with the masterpieces of the great artists; and they lift his soul up 
to the appreciation of the divine element which makes them " a 
thing of beauty " and " a joy forever." 

Afford Inspiration. — These masterpieces of art not only fur- 
nish ideals, but they stimulate the imagination to activity. We 
catch inspiration from the contemplation of the productions of 
inspired genius ; we light the torch of our own imagination by a 
contact with the bright flame that burns in other minds ; we de- 
rive new vigor of conception by a communion with those rare 
spirits that have embodied themselves in their productions. Such 
souls lift us up into a higher realm — the realm of a supernal 
beauty ; they feed the mind, as it were, with the nectar of the 
gods, and stimulate it to diviner activities and attainments. 
Homer has made great poets as well as produced immortal 
epics ; and Shakespeare will kindle the flame of genius in poetic 
minds as long as the world endures. 

Prose Writings. — The imagination can be cultivated by the 
study of imaginative prose writings. The fairy tales of the 



THE CULTURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 197 

nursery direct the young mind in its early fancyings. Fables 
and allegories continue this work, as the mind becomes more 
thoughtful and the taste more mature. Then come novels and 
romances, with their incidents and developments of character, in- 
troducing the mind into an ideal Avorld, as real, for the time, as 
the actual world about us. Scott and Dickens and Thackeray 
give inspiration and direction to the power of ideal creation in 
literature; the imaginative prose of Ruskin, Irving, and Haw- 
thorne, also trains to beauty of thought and artistic expression ; 
and the imaginative parts of orations like Webster's " When my 
eyes shall be turned for the last time," etc., committed to memory 
and frequently recited, will cultivate the taste for those flights of 
eloquence which touch the heart of the world as with a spell of 
magic. 

Poetical Writings. — Poetical writings are especially adapted 
to give culture to this faculty, for poetry is the embodiment of 
the ideals of the imagination. The scenes which are described 
awaken the reader's imagination into activity to picture them. 
The imaginary incidents, if properly conceived, may be made to 
move before the mind like the pictures of a panorama. The 
figures of rhetoric, studied and fixed in the memory, incite our 
own minds to activity, and become types for our own creations. 
The beautiful simile or metaphor, as "Behold how far that little 
candle throws his beams; So shines a good deed in a naughty 
world," nestles in the memory and begets a similar production 
when we write or speak. The striking personification, as " Night's 
candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty 
mountain top," will teach us to give life and beauty to our 
abstract thoughts, and make our speech striking and impressive. 

4. By Creating Ideal Productions. — The imagination is 
also to be cultivated by creating ideals for ourselves. This is the 
highest activity of the imagination, and that which produces the 
best results, both in culture and art. It is this culture which 
gives us our poets, painters, sculptors, and composers of music. 
It is such training that fills our halls and libraries with the pro 



198 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ducts of the fine arts, and gives to genius the crown of immortality. 
Much of this excellence is attained only by the native gift of 
genius, but much also can be accomplished by cultivation. 
Though the old adage tells us that " poets are born, not made," 
yet a high degree of artistic power might be attained by many 
who now seem to be entirely deficient in this respect. 

In Literature. — The student should be required to create 
imaginative literary productions. They may begin with the rela- 
tion of imaginary incidents, and proceed to the creation of fairy 
tales, allegories, novelettes, etc. They should also learn the 
nature of poetical figures, the simile, metaphor, etc., and practice 
creating original ones. Every young person should learn the art 
of verse-making, as it trains the ear and taste to appreciate poetry 
as well as gives culture to the power of ideal thought and expres- 
sion. Many of the eminent prose writers trained their literary 
taste by the practice of poetical composition. It is in literature 
that the student will find the best field for the culture of the im- 
agination, as it is open to every one who can read and use lan- 
guage. 

In Other Arts. — Some practice in imaginative creation may 
be had also in several of the other arts. Students of music should 
be encouraged to compose melodies and harmonies, as well as to 
execute them. There could also be given some exercises in con- 
ceiving ideal landscapes and describing them in words. If there 
is the power of executing pictures with the pencil or brush, the 
culture will be so much the better. The conceiving of forms of 
grace in the sculptor's art may also give exercise to this power; 
though it needs the clay or plaster to mould these ideals in order 
to be of much value in imaginative culture. 

In School Studies. — A few of the school studies may be used 
to give culture to the imagination, especially geography and his- 
tory. In geography the student may be led to picture before his 
mind the flowing river, the heaving ocean, the wide-extended 
prairie with its waving flowers, the broad desert with its caravans 
of horses and camels, the Esquimaux of the icy North with their 



THE CULTURE OF THE IMAGINATION. 199 

huts of snow, the inhabitants of the tropics with their peculiari- 
ties of dress and religion, etc. So in history the events can be 
made to pass before the mind like the scenes of a panorama — the 
expeditions of the discoverers, the landing of the early settlers, 
the marching of armies, the movements of the forces on the field 
of battle, etc. When taught in this manner, and this is the way 
in which these studies should be taught, they afford excellent 
culture to the imagination. 

Concluding Remark. — In conclusion, we urge upon teachers 
and educators the importance of such culture. Let the teacher 
call the attention of the pupil to the beauty and grandeur of 
nature, fill his memory with fine quotations of poetry, have him 
commit and recite the eloquent passages in the great orators, visit 
picture galleries and halls of statuary, and endeavor to form in 
his own mind ideals of beauty and to express them in language. 
Such culture will refine the taste, elevate the character, give a 
source of exquisite enjoyment in after life, and do much for the 
development of that highest object of education — a pure, refined, 
and noble manhood and womanhood. 



THE UNDERSTANDING. 
I. Abstraction. 
II. Conception. 

III. Judgment. 

IV. Reasoning. 



THE UNDERSTANDING. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE NATURE OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 

THE Understanding is that faculty of the mind by which 
we compare objects of thought and derive abstract and gen- 
eral ideas and truths. It is the elaborative power of the mind ; 
it takes the materials furnished by the other faculties and works 
them up into new products. It is the thinking power of the 
mind ; the faculty which gives us what has been called thought- 
knowledge, in distinction from sense-knowledge. It may be re- 
garded as the mental architect among the faculties ; it transforms 
the material furnished by the senses and the reason, into new 
products, and thus builds up the temples of science and philosophy. 

Different Names. — This faculty has been variously named by 
writers on mental science. Locke called it the Reflective Power, 
or Reflection, because the mind seems to bend in upon itself and 
examine the materials in the mind and operate upon them. Kant 
called it the Understanding, in which he was followed by Cole- 
ridge and others. Sir AVilliam Hamilton calls it the Elaborative 
Power; while Dr. Porter uses the simple name, Thought or 
Thought Power. It seems appropriate to designate the faculty 
by some technical name; and the term Understanding is that 
towards which the best writers on philosophy seem to be inclin- 
ing. 

Its Products. — The products of the Understanding are two- 
fold, ideas and thoughts. An idea, as already explained, is a 
mental product which when expressed in words does not give a 

( 201 ) 



202 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

proposition; a thought is a mental product which embraces the 
relation of two or more ideas. The ideas of the understanding 
are of two general classes ; abstract ideas and general ideas. The 
thoughts are also of two general classes ; those pertaining to con- 
tingent truth and those pertaining to necessary truth. In contin- 
gent truth we have facts, or immediate judgments, and general 
truths, including laws and causes, derived from particular facts; 
in necessary truth we have axioms, or self-evident truths, and 
the truths derived from them by reasoning, called theorems. 

Forms of Activity. — The understanding embraces four dis- 
tinct forms of activity, giving rise to several distinct classes of 
products. These are Abstraction, Generalization, Judgment, and 
Reasoning. Abstraction is the power of forming abstract ideas. 
Generalization or Conception is the power of forming general 
ideas. Judgment is the power of comparing one object directly 
with another ; as, a man is an animal. Reasoning is the process 
of comparing two objects of thought through their relation to a 
third ; as, A equals B, but B equals C, hence A equals C. It 
infers general truths from particulars by Induction; and partic- 
ular truths from generals by Deduction. 

Analysis and Synthesis. — These operations of the under- 
standing involve two elements; synthesis and analysis. These 
two elements run through every process and product of the 
understanding. Some of the processes are principally or entirely 
analytic; some are principally or entirely synthetic; while in 
others the two elements are combined. Thus Abstraction is 
mainly analytic; Generalization is mainly synthetic; Judgment 
is either analytic or synthetic ; while Reasoning is either a syn- 
thesis of particulars in Induction, or an evolution of the partic- 
ular from the general in Deduction. 

Comparison the Basis. — The one word which expresses the 
operation of the Understanding more nearly than any other is 
Comparison. Comparison enters prominently into every oper- 
ation ; and in judgment and reasoning it is the essential element. 
Abstraction seems to be purely analytic ; but there must be a 
9* 



THE NATURE OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 203 

comparison of the different qualities, or of the object and its 
quality, to distinguish between them, in order that any quality or 
property may be drawn from the object. In forming a. general 
notion, we compare the common attributes of objects in order 
to see that they are common, before we unite them into a general 
concept. The very essence of a judgment is a comparison of the 
two related ideas ; and in reasoning the conclusion is derived by 
comparing the premises. It is thus seen that the fundamental 
principle of the operations of the understanding is that of com- 
parison. 

Relation of Elements. — The relation of Comparison to 
Analysis and Synthesis may be readily understood. Com- 
parison is a process of thought, — it is a distinct form of mental 
activity ; Analysis and Synthesis are not distinct forms of mental 
activity, but elements that enter into these various activities. 
The general form of the thought-process is comparison ; analysis 
and synthesis are modes of its operation. Comparison is the 
thought-process ; analysis and synthesis are the mechanical pro- 
cesses. Comparison is the queen, presiding over all the various 
activities ; analysis and synthesis are her handmaidens, who obey 
her orders and aid her in her operations. 

Having presented this general view of the Understanding, we 
shall now proceed to discuss the several operations, — Abstraction, 
Generalization, Judgment, and Reasoning. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE NATURE OF ABSTRACTION. 

A BSTRACTION is the power of forming abstract ideas. It 
-£j^- is the power of drawing a quality away from an object and 
making of it a distinct object of thought. Thus the drawing 
away of some quality of a flower, as its color or fragrance, and 
thinking of this quality independently of the flower in which it 
was perceived, is an act of abstraction. The term abstraction is 
derived from ah, from, and traho, I draw, and means literally 
a drawing from. 

Illustration of Abstraction. — The process of abstraction 
may be made clear by an illustration. Suppose I have some 
object on my table, as a red rose. I may fix my attention upon 
the color of this rose, in distinction from its form or fragrance or 
any other quality. This is not an act of abstraction ; it is merely 
analytic perception ; I have not drawn away a quality or formed 
an abstract notion. But suppose, now, I draw this quality of 
color away from the rose to which it belongs, allowing the object 
to fade away from my mind, and think only of this color red, 
without regard to any object ; I shall then have a new product 
of thought, which is called an abstract notion or idea. I have 
drawn away, abstracted, a quality from the substance in which it 
was found ; and it stands in my mind as a distinct idea. The 
power of forming such ideas is abstraction ; and the process itself 
is also called abstraction. 

Positive and Negative. — The process of abstraction may be 
regarded as either a positive or a negative operation. Thus I 
may positively, by a distinct act of the mind, withdraw one 
quality of an object from all the other qualities with which it is 

(204) 



THE NATURE OF ABSTRACTION. 205 

associated. This is abstraction in its positive, or active aspect. 
I may also fix my attention upon some one quality of an object, 
and allow the other qualities to pass away from my thoughts or 
drop out of my mind. This is abstraction in its negative or 
passive aspect.* In both cases we have a quality considered apart 
from its object, and thus an abstract notion. The active aspect 
is the one under which the process should be generally viewed, 
as the mind more frequently operates in that way than in the 
other. 

The Potver Questioned. — It may be questioned whether the 
mind has this power of considering a quality .distinct from the 
object in which it is perceived. A little reflection, however, will 
make it clear that it does possess this power. If we admit that 
we have general conceptions, these conceptions must be made up 
of common attributes ; and these attributes are considered apart 
from the objects in which they were perceived. If we could not 
abstract, we could not generalize ; for abstraction is a condition 
of generalization. Besides, we remember that all that we per- 
ceive of an object is its qualities ; and the process of abstraction 
consists in fixing the attention on one quality while the other 
qualities drop out of the mind. When these pass away, the 
object passes with them, and we have but a single quality left as 
an object of thought. All conception of qualities by themselves, 
separated from an object, involves an operation of abstraction. 

I. Products of Abstraction. — The products of Abstraction 
are abstract ideas, that is, ideas of qualities in the abstract. Such 
ideas are called Abstracts. Thus my idea of some particular 
color, of hardness, or softness, or sweetness, is an abstract. Ab- 
stract ideas have been wittily called "the ghosts of departed 
qualities." They may more appropriately be regarded as the 
spirits of which the objects from which they are derived are the 
bodies. In other words, they are, figuratively speaking, " the dis- 
embodied spirits of material things." 

Abstracts are Real. — Abstract ideas are realities. They are 
not mere figments of the fancy; they are actual thought pro- 



206 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ducts. The basis of their existence is the objects from which 
they were drawn; and they are as real as these objects them- 
selves. Every abstract idea can be realized in some concrete 
object. Thus the idea of some color, abstracted from a rose, can 
be realized in the rose ; the form of a horse can be realized in the 
horse, etc. A concrete thing is thus the basis of an abstract idea, 
and the latter is as real as the former. The abstract idea, how- 
ever, exists independently of the concrete object; and remains 
even when the latter passes away. The rose dies, but my idea of 
its color and fragrance continues. 

Ideal Abstracts. — We can also abstract the qualities of an 
imaginary object as well as a real one. Thus the melancholy of 
Hamlet may be considered apart from his indecision or his 
philosophy, and each may be considered apart from our mental 
picture of the form and appearance of the ideal character. In 
such cases, the abstract quality is no more real than the ideal 
object from which it is drawn. In the one case the quality has 
an actual existence in the object; in the other case it has merely 
an ideal existence. 

Abstracts are Particular. — Pure abstract ideas are indi- 
vidual. My idea of an attribute drawn from some particular 
object, as some particular shade of red, is evidently particular 
rather than general. It is that special shade of red or blue 
which I perceive in the object, and no other. The shape, size, 
etc., of any particular object are singular notions. This position 
should be emphasized, because of the prevalence of the opinion 
that all abstract notions are general, or because of the general 
tendency to confound the two. Mr. Stewart says, " A person who 
had never seen but one rose, might yet have been able to con- 
sider its color apart from its other qualities ; and, therefore, there 
may be such a thing as an idea which is at once abstract and par- 
ticular." 

Abstract General Ideas. — Many of our abstract notions 
embrace more than is found in any one object, and are, therefore, 
general. Similar qualities abstracted from different objects tend 



THE NATURE OF ABSTRACTION. 207 

to commingle, and the abstract idea which was at first particular 
becomes general. This is true to so large an extent that some 
writers seem to regard all abstract ideas as the product of gen- 
eralization. The fact is that the greater part of our abstract 
ideas are now general, though a very large portion of them must 
have had their origin as particulars. Such ideas are more than 
pure abstracts; they are the result of abstraction and general- 
ization. 

Relation to Percepts. — The relation of an abstract to a per- 
cept is readily seen. A percept is concrete; it is a notion of the 
object or thing perceived. An abstract is abstract'; it is a notion 
of a quality drawn away from the object in which it was per- 
ceived. Thus when I think of a stone, the idea is concrete ; but 
when I think of its weight, size, or hardness, separated from the 
stone, the idea is abstract. My idea of a man is concrete; but 
my idea of his learning, wisdom, wealth, etc., is abstract. " If I 
contemplate God," says Dr. McCosh, "the notion is concrete, — 
it is God with all his perfections known to me ; but if I meditate 
on his infinity, his justice, or his benevolence, my idea is ab- 
stract." 

A Farther Distinction. — Another distinction is, that a p'er- 
cept can usually be represented as an image; an abstract cannot 
usually be so represented.. We may form a mental picture of 
color or form, but we fan form no mental image of such notions 
as justice, peace, property, government, religion, etc. The imagi- 
nation may give us a symbol of some of these abstract ideas, — as 
a woman with a pair of scales for Justice, — and such products 
are of great interest and use in poetry, oratory, etc. ; but these 
products are ideals of the fancy and not the thought-products of 
the understanding. 

II. Other Views of Abstraction. — There are two other 
views of abstraction which have been quite extensively held by 
writers on mental philosophy. These may be distinguished as 
the Limited View and the Wider View. 

The Limited View. — The term abstraction is often used in a 



208 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

more limited sense than that here given to it. It is by some 
writers regarded as that act of the mind by which we fix the at- 
tention upon one of the several parts, properties, or qualities of 
an object, to the exclusion of all the others. Thus, I may think 
of the cover of a book, the handle of a door, the spring of a 
watch, etc., in distinction from the other parts which make up 
the complex whole of these objects. This is a very common view 
of the nature of abstraction. It is the view of Mill and his 
school of philosophy; and even Sir William Hamilton seems 
almost to drop into this view when he says, " Attention and ab- 
straction are only the same process viewed in different relations. 
They are, as it were, the positive and negative poles of the same 
act." In other places, however, he makes it clear that he does 
not regard this as real abstraction. 

Objection to the View. — It is a question, however, whether this 
is really abstraction. In its favor it may be said that the mind 
is drawn away (ab-traho) from the several qualities of the object 
in order to fix it upon the one ; and that this is an act of ab- 
straction. In objection, however, it is urged, that there is no 
new faculty employed beyond perception, and no new product 
formed. It is merely an act of attention and analysis, and 
might, with propriety, be called analytic perception. There is 
no abstract idea formed, for the part considered is still regarded 
as a part of the object in which it is perceived. In popular lan- 
guage this may be called abstraction ; but it seems hardly to be 
what we mean by it in a philosophic sense. Sir William Hamil- 
ton says that in such an act we may indeed be said to prescind, 
but not to abstract. 

The Wider View. — The term abstraction is sometimes used 
to denote the entire process of forming abstract general notions, 
and even of classifying objects according to these conceptions. It 
seems thus to have been regarded by Stewart, Way land, Mahan, 
and others. The terms abstract and general, as applied to notions, 
are used by some of these writers as convertible. All abstract 
notions seem to be regarded by them as general, embracing many 
particulars. 



THE NATURE OF ABSTRACTION. 209 

Objection to this View. — This view would destroy the existence 
of this faculty altogether, or resolve it into the faculty of gen- 
eralization ; and, as a consequence, it would destroy also the dis- 
tinction between an abstract and a general idea. The general 
idea is, in a sense, an abstract notion ; but it is more than a pure 
abstract. It is formed by a synthesis of particular abstracts, and 
thus involves more than pure abstraction. In forming a general 
notion, we put together abstracts ; and this putting together is a 
process of synthesis in addition to abstraction. General notions 
are thus in a sense abstract ; but all abstract notions are not 
general. A pure abstract, as we have previously seen, is indi- 
vidual and particular. 

Caution on the Subject. — Care should be taken to distinguish 
between abstract ideas and general ideas. This distinction seems 
to have been overlooked by Locke and his followers, although it 
has been clearly made by others. Stewart says, — "The words 
Abstraction and Generalization are commonly, but improperly, 
used as synonymous ; and the same inaccuracy is frequently com- 
mitted in speaking of abstract or general ideas, as if the two ex- 
pressions were convertible." Hamilton remarks, — " We can rivet 
our attention on some particular mode of a thing, as its smell, its 
color, its figure, its size, etc., and abstract it from the others. 
This may be called Modal Abstraction. The abstraction we have 
now been considering is performed on individual objects, and 
is consequently particular. There is nothing necessarily con- 
nected with generalization in abstraction ; generalization is in- 
deed dependent on abstraction, which it supposes ; but abstraction 
does not involve generalization. I remark this because you will 
frequently find the terms abstract and general, applied to notions, 
used as convertible." 



CHAPTER III. 

NATURE OF GENERALIZATION, OR CONCEPTION. 

QENERALIZATION, or Conception, is the power of form* 
ing general ideas. It is the power of grasping the common 
qualities of objects and uniting them into a single notion compre- 
hending them all. It is thus the power of combining the indi- 
vidual into the general; of uniting the manifold into one; of 
binding a j>lurality of common attributes into a single notion. 

A General Idea. — A general idea is one that embraces many- 
particulars, and may be applied in general to any one of these 
particulars. It differs from the particular idea in that the latter 
relates to only one particular object, while the former may be ap- 
plied to all the individuals of the class. Thus my idea of my 
father is particular, and applies to only one person ; but my idea 
of a father is general, and embraces all persons who bear the re- 
lation indicated. 

The Term Conception. — The power of forming general ideas 
is called Conception. The term is from con, with, and capio, I 
take, and means a taking or binding together. This is the proper 
term for the name of the faculty. It is the term now almost uni- 
versally employed by writers on logic ; and also by many of our 
best writers on mental science. The products of conception are 
called concepts. The term Concept is thus the correct and tech- 
nical name for a general idea. 

I. The Process of Conception. — The process of conception 
or generalization consists of several distinct steps or mental pro- 
cesses. This process by which we form our general ideas we 
shall now describe and illustrate. 

Basis of Conception. — The basis of the process is perception. 

(210) 



NATURE OF GENERALIZATION. 211 

The mind begins with the perception of individuals. We learn 
their properties of color, form, size, etc., by the different senses, 
and uniting these qualities in the single object we obtain a clear 
and definite idea of individuals. This act of perception, though 
necessary to, is not a part of the process of generalization ; but 
rather an essential condition of the process. Attention is called 
to it here in order to give a clearer view of the process of con- 
ception. 

Forming the Concept. — As we acquire our ideas of indi- 
viduals, we begin to compare these objects, or our perception of 
them. We notice their resemblances and differences, wherein 
they agree and disagree, are alike and unlike. We then drop 
out of consideration the points in which they differ, and fixing 
our attention upon the points in which they are alike, we bind 
the common attributes together into one general notion embrac- 
ing them all. This gives us a new mental product, a new idea, 
which is called a general idea or concept. 

Naming the Concept. — This new idea must be distinguished 
and preserved by a word. We therefore give it some name, as 
man, horse, etc. " A conception without a name," says Atwater, 
" is like an unfenced crop, or a volatile odor." Our first names 
are of individuals, as mamma, papa, etc. These are the names 
of our perceptions, or of particular objects. The most of the 
names we use in writing or speaking are general in their nature, 
applying to many objects of a class. The proper nouns of 
grammar name our perceptions; the common nouns name our 
general ideas. 

The Process Illustrated. — The process may be illustrated 
by the formation of any general notion, as horse. We begin with 
the idea of particular horses, as the horses of our father and our 
neighbors ; we compare them with each other and with different 
objects, and notice their similarities and differences. We see 
that, though they differ in many particulars, they are more like 
one another than they are like any other objects ; so in view of 
their many resemblances we drop out of consideration their 



212 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

differences, and bind these common attributes into one general 
notion and call it horse. In the same way we form our general 
notion of cow, dog, sheep, bird, etc. 

Another Illustration. — The process may be illustrated also 
in the forming of the general idea of color. We begin by ob- 
serving particular shades of the different colors as seen in different 
objects. We get one shade of red in one object, another shade in 
another object, etc., and thus obtain several particular shades of 
red. We do the same with the other colors, blue, green, yellow, 
etc. We also compare these different shades ; we see that, though 
the various shades of red differ, they are more like one another 
than they are like the shades of blue or green, etc.; so in view of 
such similarity, we bind all th^se shades together into one con- 
cept, and thus get our general idea of red. In a similar manner, 
we get our general idea of blue, green, yellow, etc. We then begin 
to compare these different colors ; and though they differ, yet they 
are more like one another than they are like stones, or stars, or 
trees, or any other objects ; so in view of some common points of 
resemblance we bind them all together into one general concept, 
and name it color. 

Forming Higher Concejjts. — We may also combine general 
notions and rise to higher generalizations. We can generalize 
from classes, as well as from individuals. Thus, the concept of 
color is formed by combining the several colors, violet, indigo, 
blue, green, yellow, orange, ami red, each one of which is itself a 
general idea. This relation, expressed in the form of an equation, 
gives us, color = v+i + b+g + y + o + r. In the same 
way, comparing dogs, cows, horses, etc., we get the higher con- 
ception quadruped; or, in mathematical language, quadruped = 
dogs + cows -j- horses + etc. Thus also, we have biped = bird + 
man + etc.; animal = biped + quadruped + etc. 

II. Eemarks on the Process. — This description and illustra- 
tion of the method of forming our general notions will give the 
student a clear idea of the process. A few remarks upon the 
subject, however, may serve to make some parts of the process a 



NATUEE OF GENERALIZATION. 213 

little more distinct. The process of generalization, as described, 
will be seen to consist of three distinct steps ; comparison, analy- 
sis, and synthesis. 

The First Step. — The first step in the process is that of com- 
parison. As we acquire our ideas of individual objects, we begin 
to compare them, or our perceptions of them. This process is an 
instinctive one ; it is a natural habit of the mind manifesting it- 
self in earliest childhood. We are constantly noticing the simi- 
larities and differences of objects, and observing agreements or 
disagreements among them. This is an act of judgment; so 
that judgment lies at the basis of the process of generalization. 

The Second Step.-^-The second step is that of analysis. We 
separate the similar qualities from those which are dissimilar; 
and this is a process of analysis. We also draw away the similar 
attributes from the objects in which they are found, if we have 
not done so before the comparison and previous analysis. This 
is a process of abstraction, an analytic process, as already ex- 
plained. These two steps, comparison and analysis, are pre- 
paratory or preliminary steps to the great step which is to follow. 
Were we to stop here, no general idea would be formed. These 
two processes of analysis and comparison really provide the ma- 
terials for the more important step which follows. 

The Third Step. — The third step is that of synthesis. The 
mind now takes the materials that have been furnished and 
fashioned by comparison and analysis, and unites them into one 
single mental product, giving us the general notion or concept. 
The mind, as it were, brings together these several attributes 
into a bunch or package, and then ties a mental string around it, 
as we would bunch a lot of roses or cigars. This is the final and 
important step in the process ; it is the real process of conception, 
or the taking together (con-capio) into one. 

Not Always Formal. — A formal description of generalization 
regards it as composed of these several distinct steps ; but in the 
actual formation of the concept, these steps are not always kept 
so distinct as described. It is not always easy to determine which 



214 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

of the first two steps, comparison or analysis, precedes. In many 
cases, there seems to be a perception of some general likeness or 
unlikeness before any abstracting takes place ; in other cases, the 
process of abstracting seems to precede comparison. Sometimes, 
also, we may fix upon some quality which is strikingly char- 
acteristic of the class, and group together all the objects possessing 
this characteristic ; as the vertebral column in zoology, or the . 
form of the flower in botany. Again, the process seems to pro- 
ceed in a mixed and confused sort of manner, or, as Hamilton 
says, from the confused to the clear and definite. 

A Synthetic Process. — It is thus seen that generalization, or 
conception, is a synthetic process. In its final and crowning act, 
it unites, combines, binds together. Thus special colors are com- 
bined into the notion of color in general ; particular animals are 
united into a general idea of animals, etc. Our conceptions are 
thus seen to embrace wider and wider circles of thought, as we 
go from particulars to generals, or from the less general to the 
more general. 

An Ascending Process. — Generalization is an ascending pro- 
cess. The broader concept is regarded as higher than the nar- 
rower concept ; a concept is considered as higher than a percept ; 
a general idea stands above a particular idea. We thus go up 
from particulars to generals ; from percepts to concepts ; from 
lower concepts to higher concepts. Beginning down with par- 
ticular objects, we rise from them to the general idea of their 
class. Having formed a number of lower classes, we compare 
them as we did individuals, and generalize them into higher 
classes. We perform the same process with these higher classes, 
and thus proceed until we are at last arrested in the highest 
class, that of being. Having reached the pinnacle of generaliza- 
tion, we may descend the ladder by reversing the process through 
which we ascend. 

III. The Nature op the Concept. — The products of gen- 
eralization are general ideas called concepts. We have already 
discussed the method of forming conceptions, and we shall now 



NATURE OF GENERALIZATION. 215 

consider the nature of the concept itself. The subject is one of 
real importance, as may be seen from the fact that the existence 
of general notions is denied by some philosophers. 

Definition of a Concept. — A concept is a general idea. It 
is a general notion which has in it all that is common to its own 
class. It is a general scheme which embraces all the individuals 
of the class, while it resembles hi all respects none of its class. 
Thus my conception of a quadruped has in it all four-footed 
animals, but it does not correspond in all respects to any partic- 
ular animal; my conception of a triangle embraces all triangles, 
but does not agree in details with any particular triangle. The 
general conception cannot be made to fit exactly any particular 
object, but it teems with many particulars. These points may be 
illustrated with the concepts horse, bird, color, animal, etc. 

Cannot be Imaged. — -A concept cannot be represented by a 
concrete image. This is evident from its being general rather 
than particular. If its color or size or shape is fixed by an 
image, it is no longer general but particular. The concept, how- 
ever, may be individualized in some object of sense, and is so 
individualized when we apply it to the different objects of the 
class which it embraces. Some particular object may be taken 
as the representative of the class, and this may be in the mind 
when we use the general term. So also the imagination may 
form an ideal object to stand as the representative of a class of 
objects, and this ideal may accompany the use of the general 
term. These mental products are not, however", to be regarded 
as concepts ; the former is a remembered percept, and the latter 
is a figment of the imagination. 

Relation to Percepts. — The difference between a concept and 
a percept will be clear from what has been said. A percept is a 
mental product of a real thing; a concept is a mere idea or 
notion of the common attributes of things. A percept represents 
some particular object ; a concept is not particular, but general. 
A percept can be described by particulars; a concept can be de- 
scribed only by generals. The former can usually be repre- 



216 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

sented by an image; the latter cannot be imaged, it can only be 
thought. 

Concrete and Abstract. — There are two distinct classes of 
concepts which may be distinguished as concrete and abstract. In 
forming concepts Ave may unite the common elements of objects or 
the common elements of qualities. Thus I can form a concept 
from individual flowers that will contain these individuals ; as, 
rose ; or I can form a concept from individual qualities that will 
contain these qualities; as, red. The former class of concepts 
may be called concrete ; the latter, abstract The individualiza- 
tion of a concrete concept leads to a particular object ; as, man, 
bird, horse, etc.; the individualization of an abstract concept leads 
to a particular quality; as, wisdom, color, virtue, etc. 

Broad and Narrow Conceptions. — In generalization, we 
begin with individuals and combine them into classes. We then 
compare these classes and unite them into broader classes, then 
again unite these classes into still broader classes, and so on as 
far as the process can be carried. Thus we classify individual 
objects into dogs, lions, horses, men, birds, etc.; then unite dogs, 
lions, and horses into quadrupeds, and men and birds into bipeds ; 
and then unite quadrupeds and bipeds into some higher class, as 
vertebrates, etc. Now the class is broader than the individual, 
and each new class in the series is broader than the previous 
class, since it contains more objects. 

Higher and Lower Conceptions. — Now in these cases the 
broader conception, which includes the others, is called the 
higher conception ; and the narrower ones which are included are 
called loiver conceptions. In the process of combining lower 
conceptions into higher ones, we lay aside the specific differences ; 
and in resolving higher conceptions into lower ones, we bring in 
the specific differences. Thus the conception man has fewer 
marks than European or African, since these latter have all the 
marks of man, besides the individual marks which distinguish 
them from each other. The higher the class, therefore,, the 
greater the extent and the less the content. 



NATURE OF GENERALIZATION*. 217 

Relation of Conceptions. — In any series of higher and 
lower conceptions, each higher is a genus to those next below it; 
out of which it was formed by generalization. The classes or 
conceptions next below are called the species. Thus horses, cows, 
dogs, etc., are the species of the genus quadruped. In ascending 
and descending the series of related conceptions, any genus be- 
comes a species of the next higher class, and any species becomes 
a genus of the next lower class. The highest class, which is 
never a species, is called Summum Genus; the lowest class, which 
is never a genus, is called Infima Species. 

Content and Extent. — Since a concept is formed by the 
union of the common attributes of individuals, it thus embraces 
both attributes and individuals. The attributes of a concept con- 
stitute what is called its content; the individuals it embraces con- 
stitute its extent. The power of including objects is called its ex- 
tension; the power of including attributes is called its intension. 
The extension of a concept is also called its breadth; the inten- 
sion of a concept is called its depth and also its comprehension. 

Relation of Extension and Intension. — The two properties 
of extension and intension are in an inverse ratio to each other ; 
the greater the extension the less the intension, and vice- versa. 
This will be seen from the consideration that the higher the con- 
cept the more individuals it contains, but the fewer common 
properties. We lay aside the distinctive marks of lower con- 
ceptions, as we rise to higher conceptions. Thus by laying aside 
the distinctive marks, equilateral, isosceles, and scalene, we arrive 
at the higher conception triangle., which has greater extension but 
less intension than isosceles triangle or scalene triangle. So the 
concept man has more extension than poet, orator, or statesman, 
since it embraces more individuals; and less intension, since Ave 
must lay aside the distinctive attributes of poet, orator, and states- 
man, in order to unite them in the common class man. 

Distribution of Concepts. — A concept, or term, is said to be 
distributed when it is used in its fullest sense. Thus in the 
proposition, all men are mortal, the term man is distributed, or 
10 



218 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

used distributively. In the proposition, some men are poets, the 

term mow is undistributed. Such concepts, or terms, are also dis- 
tinguished as universal ami particular. 

IV. The Qualities of Concepts. — There are several qual- 
ities or attributes belonging to concepts that enable us to arrange 
them into distinct classes. A knowledge of these qualities or 
characteristics is so important in understanding the nature of the 
concept and the method of cultivating the power of conception, 
that they will be briefly considered. 

Clear and Obscure Conceptions. — A concept, or any idea, 
is dear when we can distinguish it from all other ideas. When 
we cannot thus distinguish it from other ideas, it is said to be 
obscure. Thus in twilight we often see objects, but are unable 
to distinguish them from one another; in this case our cognition 
of them is obscure. As the light gradually increases, our view 
of the objects becomes so well defined that we can distinguish 
them from one another, and the cognition becomes clear. The 
same distinction may exist in respect to our abstract and general 
ideas. Many of our general notions, through inattention or in- 
experience, are obscure. Thus a large number of persons are 
unable to distinguish Logic from Psychology or Metaphysics, or 
a court of law from a court of chancery. Such conceptions are 
obscure to those who are not familiar with these matters. 

Distinct and Confused Conceptions. — A concept is said to 
he distinct when we can distinguish its marks or attributes. 
Thus, we have a distinct knowledge of the concept man when we 
know its marks to be animality and rationality. A concept is 
confused when, though we may be able clearly to distinguish it 
from other concepts, we are unable to distinguish its marks. 
Thus, if we could distinguish the concept man from other con- 
cepts, and did not know its marks, the concept would be confused. 
A concept may thus be clear and yet confused. Many concepts 
are confused on account of our lack of knowledge, and may be 
made distinct by further study or investigation. Such ideas as 
space, tinie. and color are essentially indistinct, since it is impos- 
sible for us to distinguish their attributes. 



NATURE OF GENERALIZATION. 219 

Adequate and Inadequate Conceptions.- — A concept is said 
to be adequate when we can apprehend not only the marks of the 
conception, but the marks of the marks. Thus, that my idea of 
man may be adequate, I must not only distinguish the attributes 
animaliiy and rationality, but 1 must also know the marks of these 
attributes, — Lhc former being life and sensation, the latter the 
intuition of supersensua] truths and the power of thinking in the 
light of such truths. When in a conception we cannot distin- 
guish the marks of the marks, then it is said to be inadequate. 
Thus a conception can he distinct and yet inadequate, at the 
same time. 

Notatice and Symbolical Conceptions. — A notative con- 
ception is one whose name suggests its marks; as, quadruped, tri- 
angle, octagon. A symbolical conception is one whose name 
serves merely as a symbol of the idea, and does not suggest the 
marks of the concept; as church, family, senate. This attribute or 
distinction of a concept ion arises from the terms employed to ex- 
press them, rather than from the concept itself. Most persons 
use terms as symbolic, not thinking of the marks suggested by 
these terms. A knowledge of etymology will change many 
terms and their conceptions from symbolic to notative. 

Absolute and Relative Conceptions. — Conceptions are also 
distinguished i .-■ absolute and relative. An absolute term or notion 
is one that does not imply any other conception; as, stone, book, 
water. A relative coneeption is oik; which implies some related 
conception. Thus son implies a father, king a subject, debtor u 
creditor, etc. A pair of relatives, like father and son, are called 
correla tier.-. In all relative conceptions there is some ground of 
relation; in father and son it is the family; in king and subject it 
is government. 

Contrary and Contradictory Conceptions. — Contrary con- 
ceptions are th< se that embrace attributes just the opposite of one 
another. Thus wise and foolish, hard and soft, love and haired, 
light and darkness, are contrary conceptions. Contradictor)/ con- 
ceptions are those in which the attributes of one are a denial of 



220 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

the attributes of the other; as man and not-man, ego and non-ego, 
organic and inorganio, wise and unwise, kind and unkind, holy and 
unholy. Contradictory terms may mean merely the denial of the 
presence of the positive attribute, or they may imply the possess- 
ion of the opposite attribute. A contradictory in form is thus 
often a contrary in meaning; and the tendency is for pure con- 
tradictories to become contraries. The terms contrary and contra- 
dictory are often applied indifferently to the term or conception 
o'pposite to the positive out-. 

Glasses of Contradictories. — Contradictories are of two kinds; 
substantive, as man and not-man : and attributive, as wise and un- 
wise. Substantive contradictories include between them all being-, 
actual and possible. Thus man and noi-man embrace the whole 
universe of being; as not-man includes everything not included 
in man. . The attributive contradictory denies an attribute which 
might belong to an object, as an unkind man. but it cannot be 
said to embrace everything not included in kind. 

Positive and Negative i Umceptiotis. — Of these contradictory 
conceptions, one is called a positive and the other a negative con- 
ception. A positive conception is one which possesses positive 
marks; as, man, wise, material, etc. A negative conception is one 
in which there is an asserted absence of these positive marks: as. 
not-man, unwise, immaterial. The term naming the concept is in 
the negative form, ami the form of the term indicates the nega- 
tive character oi' the concept. The primary idea of the negative 
term is to merely deny the attribute; but such terms usually 
imply not merely the absence, but the opposite of the marks of 
the positive. Thus unbind means not merely a lack of kind- 
ness, but a presence of the opposite of kindness. The same is 
true of such terms as wise and unwise, temperate and intemperate. 
The relation between a positive and a negative conception is, in 
the form of the term, that oi' contradictories; but in sense, it is 
often that oi' contraries. When the concept means merely the 
absence of the positive attributes, it is appropriately called a 
privative concept; as, unloved, unlearned, not-fast, not-large, not- 



NATURE OP GENERALIZATION. 221 

bright This explanation, it is thought, will make clear a dis- 
tinction of terms which the logicians have usually left obscure. 

The Terms Illustrated. — The following illustrations will 
make clear the relation of some of these conceptions: 

Contrary Concepts. Contradictory Concepts. 

wise : foolish man : uot-man 

hard : soft ego : non-ego 

love : hatred kind : not-kind 

Light : darkness holy : unholy 

below : above Aviso : unwise 

Relation Illustrated. — Contrary conceptions are more widely 
separated than contradictories, according to the primary idea of 
contradictories. Thin arises from the primary idea of the nega- 
tive being merely a privative. Their relation may be seen by 
the following examples : 

Positive. Negative. Contrary. 

wise unwise foolish 

loved unloved hated 

learned unlearned ignorant 

fast not-fast slow 

large not-large small 

many not-many few 

These negatives are mainly privatives, signifying merely the 
absence of the positive attribute. The distinction between 
privatives and negatives is not fixed and immovable, but varies 
wiih the fluctuations of language. Many writers seem to con 
these privative and negative terms; and their definitions of con- 
tradictories and contraries will not always hold when tested by 
examples. 

V. Unfolding Conceptions. — There are certain attributes 
of concepts and certain relations existing between them that 
enable us to unfold and distinguish them clearly, distinctly, and 
adequately. The principal methods of doing this are Logical 
Division, Logical Analysis, and Logical Definition 

Lof/icfil Division. — If we take any class and divide it into 
the several conceptions combined in it, the process is called Log- 



222 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ical Division. Logical Division divides a genus into its proxi- 
mate and constituent species. We may begin at any genus, and 
separate it into its species, then take any of these species, and 
separate it into sub-species, and thus continue until we pass 
through infima species to individuals. The proximate species 
into which a genus is divided, are called coordinate species. Any 
species, in relation to any subdivision of a coordinate species, or 
in relation to any division coordinate to its genus, is called dis- 
parate. Thus quadruped and biped are coordinate under animal; 
lion, dog, and horse under quadruped ; while lion is disparate with 
biped or with any division of dog, as terrier. 

Logical Analysis. — If we take any conception and divide it 
into the marks or attributes which compose it, the process is 
called Logical Analysis, or Partition. Thus, if we take the con- 
cept man, and separate it into the marks animality and ration- 
ality, we are giving a logical analysis of it. So also we may 
analyze a triangle into the several elements, — a plane figure, 
rectilineal lines, three sides, and three angles. A concept is re- 
garded as a complex unit made up of several attributes or prop- 
erties ; and logical analysis unfolds these properties. Logical 
analysis has to do with the content of a concept, while logical 
division has to do with its extent. The former ascertains its in- 
tension ; the latter, its extension. 

Logical Definition. — If we take a concept and put it into a 
higher concept, and then point out the difference between it and 
the other conceptions contained in this higher concept, we are 
said to define it, and the process is called Logical Definition. 
The differences which distinguish the concept from other concepts 
of the same genus are called specific differences, or the differentia. 
A logical definition therefore defines by genus and specific differ- 
ences, or by genus and differentia. Thus to define man, we 
place the concept into the higher concept, animal, and then give 
the differentia, rationality, having the definition "Man is a 
rational animal." So in defining a triangle, we say " A triangle 
is a polygon of three sides," in which "polygoif" is the genus and 



NATURE OF GENERALIZATION. 223 

"three sides" the differentia. A logical definition is thus based 
on logical division and logical analysis, and is the only perfect 
definition of a general notion or term. 

VI. The Value of General Ideas. — From what has now 
been stated, the value of general ideas will be readily appre- 
ciated. It may be briefly stated that they are the basis of lan- 
guage and of science. 

The Basis of Language. — Generalization lies at the basis of 
language: only as man can form general conceptions is it pos- 
sible for him to form a language. The brute can never speak, as 
Max Miiller says, because he cannot form a general notion. To 
give each individual or particular idea a name peculiar to itself 
would be impracticable and indeed impossible; the mind would 
soon become overwhelmed with its burden of names. Nearly all 
the ordinary words of our language are general rather than par- 
ticular. The individuals distinguished by particular names, ex- 
cepting persons and places, are comparatively few. Most objects 
are named only by common nouns; nearly all of our verbs 
express general actions; our adjectives denote common qualities, 
and our adverbs designate classes of actions and qualities. There 
are very few words in the language, besides the names of persons 
and places, that do not express general ideas. 

The Basis of Science. — This power of generalization lies also 
at the basis of science. Had we no power of forming general 
ideas, each particular object would be a study by itself, and we 
should thus never pass beyond the very alphabet of knowledge. 
Judgments, except in the ^simplest form, would be impossible; 
and it is difficult to see how even the simplest form. of the syllo- 
gism could be constructed. No general conclusion could be 
drawn from particulars, nor particular conclusion from generals ; 
and thus neither inductive nor deductive reasoning would be pos- 
sible. The classifications of science could not be made ; and 
knowledge would end at the very threshold of science. 

VII. Existence of General Ideas. — The existence of general 
ideas has been denied by some writers. They maintain that we 



224 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

have general terras, but no general ideas. They teach that in the 
use of general terras the notion in the mind is always particular 
Thus when we use the term triangle, if we have any mental pro- 
duct, it is of some particular triangle ; so when we use the word 
horse, there is no mental product unless we think of some partic- 
ular horse. This is the doctrine of Nominalism, and those who 
hold such views are called Nominalists. 

Reply to Nominalism. — To this view we reply, first, that it 
contradicts consciousness. We are conscious that when we use 
a general terra, as man, in the proposition " man is mortal," Ave 
do not think of any particular man, neither of John Smith, nor 
of George Washington, nor of any other man ; and yet the 
proposition has a definite meaning to us. There must therefore 
be some mental product corresponding to the terra man, or else 
we should not know what we were saying. So with the terra 
mortality, we know what we mean by it, and yet no particular 
mortality presents itself to the mind. 

Farther Reply. — Besides, we know there is a difference be- 
tween conceptions themselves. Thus, man, white man, black man, 
are distinctly discriminated, and without thinking of any partic- 
ular man in order to do so. I can say " All poets are imagina- 
tive ;" but I will not say "All men are imaginative," for I know 
that it is not true. I thus distinguish between all men and all 
poets ; and I know that when I use these terras all men and all 
poets, I do not think of any particular man or of any particular 
poet. So we understand what we mean when we say a "triangle 
is not a parallelogram ;" but in order. to do so, I do not need to 
have some particular triangle or parallelogram in my mind. It 
is thus evident that these general terras mean something to us ; 
and also that we need not have any particular image in our 
minds when we use them. There may be a mental product with- 
out an image. 

Type of a Concept. — It has been said by the Nominalist 
that when we use general terms we think of some individual ; 
and this individual stands as a type or representative of the class. 



NATURE OF GENERALIZATION. 225 

Thus I may take the image of a (lack as the type of a swimming 
bird, or the image of a horse for a quadruped. This is probably 
often dune, though not. generally; and this type maybe either 
a remembered percept or a product of the imagination. If, 
however, the Nominalist assumes that it represents the class, lie 
virtually admits the existence of the class, and that Ave have an 
idea of the class, or else the type would not be known as a repre- 
sentative of a class. Only that which we know will admit of a 
representation to our minds. 

The Concept not an Image. — The Nominalist errs in sup- 
posing that we can have no ideas without images. This is a fatal 
error: what image do we form of virtue, wisdom, justice, etc.? A 
judgment is a mental product, and yet it is not an image to us. 
We say two things are equal; does any one hold that we have no 
idea of equal unless we can form some mental image of it? The 
very question shows the absurdity of such a position. The con- 
cept is a mental product, but not a mental image. 

VIII. Classification. — Generalization gives rise to Classi- 
fication. The intimate relation of classification to conception, 
and its importance in science, make a brief discussion of it appro- 
priate. 

Nature of Classification. — By Classification we mean the 
process of arranging objects into classes. The basis of this pro- 
cess is generalization: in arranging objects into classes, the mind 
forms a notion of the class, and this is a conception. The power 
of forming the class idea is generalization or conception ; the ap- 
plication of this idea in arranging objects is classification. The 
difference between generalization and classification is that the 
former refers to the mental process, and the latter to the arrange- 
ment of the objects. We can, however, use the word classifica- 
tion, referring to the mental process, but then it is equivalent to 
conception. 

Scientific Classification. — Scientific Classification is the same 
in principle as that which is applied to ordinary things; the 
difference is that the former is more accurate than classification 
11* 



226 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

applied to common knowledge. It involves more radical distinc- 
tions in the objects classified, and a larger number of similar 
attributes and properties in those that are arranged together. 
Thus, if we class animals according to color, we would bring large 
and small, bipeds and quadrupeds together; placing the most 
dissimilar in the same group, while those most nearly related 
would often be separated. Bat to class by intrinsic attributes, 
like a vertebral column or the structure of the teeth, will bring 
together those objects that have an intrinsic relation to one 
another. 

Early Attempts. — The earliest attempts at classification were 
rude and imperfect. Prominent characteristics were seized upon, 
and the objects were loosely brought together. Thus the vege- 
table world, at an early day, was divided into trees, shrubs, and 
herbs. Theophrastus classed plants according to size, use, place 
of growth, lactescence, and generation; and Dioseorides arranged 
them according to their qualities ; as, aromatic, alimentary, medi- 
cinal, and vinous. The early classification of animals was also 
rude and unscientific. Man has stumbled and blundered on his 
pathway from common knowledge to scientific knowledge. 

Progress of Classifying. — The first classifications were 
founded on the more prominent characteristics, and were loose 
and imperfect. As observation became more accurate, the in- 
herent relationships were noticed, mistakes were corrected, and 
the classifications were more in accordance with the real nature 
and structure of the objects classified. In this way, as time 
passed by, the classifications of the material world became less 
and less artificial, and more and more scientific. Finally, the 
real relations were discovered, and the classifications became the 
accepted and final facts of science. The three kingdoms of 
nature were arranged in species, genera, classes, orders, etc., 
ranging from the highest division down to the lowest, which em- 
braces the individuals. 

Application to New Objects. — After forming a class from 
the objects known, new objects similar to these were referred to 



NATURE OF GENERALIZATION. 227 

this class. The classes thus grew in the number of objects em- 
braced, and also in common attributes. Of course mistakes were 
often made, which subsequent experience had to correct. The 
natives of the Pacific Islands classed the goats, which Captain 
Cook took there, among hogs, calling them horned hogs; while 
they classed the horse among dogs, calling it a large dog. When 
the Romans first saw an elephant, they classed it among oxen, 
calling it Bos Lucas or Lueanus, a Lucanian ox, from the name 
of the territory where they first saw it. 

Scientific Genius. — The great classifications of science are the 
result of high scientific genius. Scientific classification requires 
a deep insight into nature, in order to find the correct principles 
of classification. It was many centuries before we reached even 
the artificial classification of Linnaeus in botany ; and this at last 
gave way to the natural system of Jussieu and Tournefort. It 
was not until the great genius of Cuvier applied itself to the 
animals of the globe that we attained to the grand classification 
of the animal kingdom which the science of zoology now presents 
to us. The history of mineralogy bears witness to the same fact 
of the triumphs of scientific genius in the discovery of the laws 
of relationship which led to the present classification. 

Classes in Nature. — The classes of science seem to have an 
existence in nature. Such classes as mammalia, crustaceae, 
rosaceae, cruciferae, etc., seem to exist in nature herself. They 
have a deeper significance than our common concepts, and seem 
to have a reality in the divine order of things. Some scientists 
assume that the classes of natural history represent divine ideas, 
ideas that were in the mind of the Creator when he put forth his 
creative hand. They hold that the objects of the material world 
were constituted after these pattern ideas or plans of structure. 
It is thus said that w T e find the classes of natural history in nature, 
and that the object of science is to discover the ideas of the 
creative mind. Believing thus, the scientist may exclaim with 
Kepler, "0 God, I but think thy thoughts after thee!" 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE NATURE OF THE JUDGMENT. 

JUDGMENT is the power of perceiving the agreement or dis- 
agreement of two objects of thought. Its office is com- 
parison ; it compares one object directly with another, and gives 
us a mental product called a judgment The expression of a 
judgment in words is called a proposition. The term judgment 
is thus used to name both the faculty and its product. 

Illustration. — Tl\e faculty of judgment may be illustrated in 
the formation of the proposition " snow is white." Here snow is 
one idea, and ivhite is another idea; judgment compares these two 
ideas, and affirming their agreement, gives us the mental product, 
which, when expressed in words, forms the proposition " snow is 
white." The office of the faculty may be illustrated also in such 
propositions as "the rose is a flower^" "a bird is an animal," etc. 
The two objects of thought compared are called the terms of the 
judgment. 

Things Compared. — The two objects of thought compared 
by the judgment may be both concepts, or one may be a percept 
and the other a concept. Thus, in the judgment " a bird is an 
animal" both ideas are concepts ; in the proposition " Boston is a 
city" the first idea is a percept and the second is a concept. We 
may. also compare two percepts; as, "Boston is not Philadelphia." 
The illustrations we have given are those which are called 
"logical judgments;" and the predicate of a logical judgment is 
usually a concept. The only comparison in this logical form 
between two particulars is that which gives a negative judgment. 
There may be, however, another kind of comparison between par- 
ticulars; as, "Boston is smaller than London," which is not' in 

(228^ 



NATURE OF THE JUDGMENT. 22j 

the form of the ordinary " logical judgment." Such a comparison 
is also an act of the judgment. If we regard it as a logical judg- 
ment, the second term of the comparison is held to he " smaller 
than London/' 

Relation of the Terms. — In the illustrations of logical judg- 
ments, it will be noticed that the second object of thought is 
usually broader than the first one, and includes the first. Thus, 
animal in the judgment, "a bird is an animal,'" is broader than 
bird, and includes bird. Sometimes, however, a part of a broader 
generalization is compared with a narrower one ; as " some ani- 
mals are birds." Occasionally both concepts are of equal rank ; 
as, "man is a rational animal," or "a triangle is & polygon of three 
sides." In all "logical definitions" the two terms are of equal 
rank; the genus and differentia being regarded as constituting 
one term. 

Analytic and Synthetic. — Judgment is thus seen to be both 
analytic and synthetic in its operation ; and it may be neither. 
When we compare a part with a whole, or a narrower with a 
broader conception, the process is synthetic. When~in the com- 
parison we take a part of a conception and compare it with 
another conception, the process is analytic. When we compare 
conceptions that are equal in extent, the process is neither 
analytic nor synthetic. Thus, in the proposition " a bird is an 
animal," the judgment is synthetic; in the proposition "some 
animals are birds," the judgment is analytic; in the proposition 
"A equals B," or "a man is a rational animal," the judgment is 
neither analytic nor synthetic. 

In one sense all judgments are synthetic. A judgment consists 
of the union of two ideas, and this uniting is a process of syn- 
thesis. This, however,, is a superficial view of the process. Such 
a synthesis is a mere mechanical synthesis; below this is a 
thought-process which is sometimes analytic, sometimes synthetic, 
and sometimes neither analytic nor synthetic. Most writers on 
logic take another view of analytic and synthetic judgments, 
which it is not necessary for us to discuss. 



230 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Primitive Judgments. — The act of the mind described is 
what is known as logical judgment. Strictly speaking, however, 
every intelligent act of the mind is accompanied with a judgment. 
To know is to discriminate, and therefore to judge. Every sen- 
sation or cognition involves a knowledge, and so a judgment that 
it exists. The mind cannot think at all without judging; to 
think is to judge. Even in forming the notions which judgment 
compares, the mind judges. Every notion or concept implies a 
previous act of judgment to form it : in forming a concept, we 
compare the common attributes before we unite them, and com- 
parison is judgment. It is thus true that "Every concept is a 
contracted judgment; every judgment an expanded concept." 
This kind of judgment, by which we affirm the existence of states 
of consciousness, discriminate qualities, distinguish percepts, and 
form concepts, is called primitive or psychological judgment. 

Judgment of Intension. — The view of judgment as now ex- 
plained, is that of comparing two different concepts, as man and 
animal. This is a judgment by extension, as one concept is seen 
to contain the other. We may also regard judgment as unfolding 
the quality of a concept, and predicating this quality of the con- 
cept. Thus, if we analyze the concept man, it is seen to contain 
the attribute of animalitij, and this attribute may be asserted of 
man, giving us the proposition, " man is an animal." This is a 
judgment of intension, as it regards the intension of the concept 
rather than its extension. Both views of judgment are correct; 
the mind may reach its judgment either by extension or by in- 
tension. The method by extension is usually the more natural. 

The Proposition. — The product of the judgment is called a 
judgment, or a proposition. A proposition, as usually defined, is 
a judgment expressed in words. The term proposition, however, 
is used to denote not only the expression of the judgment, but 
also the judgment itself. 

The Terms. — -Every proposition involves two ideas, and ex- 
presses their relation to each other. These two notions, or the 
words which express them, are called terms of the proposition, 



NATURE OF THE JUDGMENT. 231 

from the Latin termini, extremes, because they stand at the ex- 
tremities of the proposition. The term which names that of 
which something is affirmed is called the subject ; the term which 
expresses that which is affirmed of the subject is called the 
predicate. The subject, as we have seen, may be either a percept, 
a concept, or an abstract ; the predicate is usually a concept. 

The Copula. — The word, or words, which connects the subject 
and predicate and expresses the relation between them, is called 
the copula. Thus, in the proposition " Man is an animal," man 
is the subject, animal is the predicate, and is is the copula. 
The copula is always the verb to be, in the present tense indica- 
tive, in an affirmative judgment; and it is the same, with the 
negative particle affixed, in a negative judgment. Thus, " the 
earth is round," or "pinks are not roses." The copula, in many 
cases, is not directly expressed by the word is or is not, but is ex- 
pressed in some other phrase which implies them. When any 
other than the substantive verb is used, the copula is included in 
the verb. Thus "he runs "is equivalent to "he is running." 
When existence simply is expressed, the verb to be is both 
predicate and copula ; as, " God is," that is, " God is existing." 

I. Nature of Judgments. — Having explained the general 
nature of the faculty of judgment and the expression of its pro- 
duct, the proposition, we shall now proceed to consider a little 
more fully the nature of the product of the judgment. This pro- 
duct, as already explained, is also called a judgment. 

Definition. — A Judgment is a mental product consisting of 
the relation of two or more ideas. Thus the mental product cor- 
responding to the proposition "man is rational," is a judgment, 
man being one idea and rational the other idea. The terms prop- 
osition and judgment are often, for convenience, used interchange- 
ably. 

Quality and Quantity. — Judgments, or propositions, are 
distinguished as to quality and quantity. By the quality of a 
judgment we mean the affirmative or negative character of the 
judgment. In respect to quality every judgment is either affirma- 



232 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

tive or negative. Thus "a rose id a flower" is an affirmative judg- 
ment ; " a rose is not a bird " is a negative judgment. By the 
quantity of a judgment, is meant the comprehensiveness of its 
subject. In respect to quantity, every judgment is either uni- 
versal or particular. Thus, " all birds are animals " is a universal 
judgment; ''some birds are robins" is a particular judgment. 

Kinds of Judgments. — In respect to quality and quantity, 
we have four kinds of judgments; — the universal affirmative, uni- 
versal negative, particular affirmative, and particular negative. 
Thus, "all men are mortal " is a universal affirmative; "no man 
is an angel" is a universal negative ;" some men are poets" is a 
particular affirmative; and "some men are not poets" is a partic- 
ular negative. The universal negative can also be stated with 
the negative particle as a part of the copula, as " all men are not 
angels ;" and this is really the meaning of the proposition in the 
first form. 

Notation of Judgments. — For the sake of convenience, 
logicians designate the different kinds of judgments or propositions 
by the letters A, E, I, and O. Thus : 

1. A, All A is B. 2. E, No A is B. 

3. I, Some A is B. 4. O, Some A is not B. 

Relation of Judgments. — These four judgments bear certain 
relations to one another, which have received special names. 
Thus A and E are called contraries; I and . '„„„,„.„ 
O are sub-contraries; A and I and also E 
and O are called subalterns; A and E are 
the subaltemans, and I and are the subal- ~ 
ternates; A and O and also E and I are 
called contradictories. These relations will 
be readily understood and remembered by 1 
the diagram in the margin. 

Distribution of Terms. — A term of a judgment is said to be 
distributed when it is used in its fullest sense ; that is, when it is 
applied to each and every individual included under it. Thus in 
the proposition, "All men are mortal," the term men is dis- 




Sub-coutraries 



NATUKE OF THE JUDGMENT. 233 

tributcd; in the proposition " Some men are poets," the term men 
is not distributed. In the proposition "All men are animals," 
the predicate is not distributed, since there are animals beside 
men, and the term animals is not used in its fullest sense. 

Distribution in Thought — Distribution generally shows itself in 
the form of the expression, but sometimes it must be determined 
by the thought. Thus if we say "Men are mortal," we mean all 
men, and the term men is distributed. But if w T e say "Books 
are necessary to a library, " we mean, not " all books " but " some 
books." The test of distribution is whether the term applies to 
" each and every." Thus, when we say " men are mortal," it is 
true of each and every man that he is mortal. 

Laws of Distribution. — The following principles determine 
the distribution of terms : 

1. All universals distribute the subject. 

2. All particulars do not distribute the subject. 

3. All negatives distribute the predicate. 

4. All affirmatives do not distribute the predicate. 

Reasons for the Laws. — The reason for the first and second is 
obvious; for in universals the whole subject is spoken of, and in 
particulars only a part of the subject. The truth of the third 
appears in the fact that no negative judgment can hold good 
unless the whole of the predicate is cut off from the subject, 
Thus, if we say " Some men are not poets," the whole class of poets 
is cut off from these "some men," and the term poets is thus used 
distributively. In " No men are perfect," the whole of the class 
" perfect " is cut off from the class " men." 

Substitutive Judgments. — It will be noticed that in the judg- 
ments given, the two terms compared are not equal in extent, — 
the predicate usually being more extensive than the subject. 
There is a class of judgments, hoAvever, in which the two terms 
compared are exactly alike in extent; as, "Man is a rational 
animal," or " A triangle is a polygon of three sides." Such 
judgments are called substitutive judgments, since the two terms 
may change places, or be substituted for each other. Thus we 



234 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

may say "Rational animals are all men," or "polygons of three 
sides are triangles." 

Kinds of Substitutive Judgments.- — Substitutive judgments may 
be universal; as, "All men are rational animals;" particular; as, 
"Some men are poets;" or singular ; as, "Bryant is the author 
of Thanatopsis." The judgments of mathematics are substitutive 
judgments, as 2 + 3 = 5, or 4 x = 24. All logical definitions 
are examples of substitutive judgments, for the subject and 
predicate are precisely equal to each other. 

II. Derived Judgments. — Judgments are often so related 
that one judgment may be derived immediately from another 
judgment. Such a process is, by some writers, called immediate 
reasoning; but we prefer to consider it under the judgment. The 
two principal methods of deriving one judgment from another are 
those of Opposition and Conversion. 

Opposition of Judgments. — Opposition exists between judg- 
ments having the same subject and predicate, but differing in 
quality or quantity, or both. The different kinds of opposition 
are, as already explained, those of Contraries, Sub-contraries, 
Contradictories, and Subalterns. 

Lairs of Opposition. — There are certain laws growing out 
of the relation of the four kinds of judgments which show how 
some of these judgments may be derived from the others. These 
laws may be stated as follows : 

Universal and Particular. — 1. If the universal is true, the par- 
ticular is true. 2. If the particular is false, the universal is 
false. 3. If the universal is false, nothing follows. 4. It the 
particular is true, nothing follows. 

Contraries. — 1. If one of two contraries is true, the other is 
false. 2. If one of two contraries is false, nothing can be inferred. 
This may also be stated thus: Contraries are never both true, 
but both may be false. 

Sub-contraries. — 1. If one of two sub-contraries is false, the other 
is true. 2. If one of two sub-contraries is true, nothing can be in- 
ferred concerning the other. This may also be stated thus : Sub- 
contraries can never be both false, but both may be true. 



NATURE OF THE JUDGMENT. 235 

Contradictories. — 1. If one of two contradictories is true, the 
other is false. 2. If one of two contradictories is false, the other 
is true. This may also be stated thus : Contradictories can never 
be both true or both false, but always one is true and the other 
is false. 

Illustrations. — These principles of opposition may be illus- 
trated by such judgments as "All men are mortal," "Some men 
are poets," etc.; and also by the abstract judgments, — " All A is 
B," " No A is B," " Some A is B," and " Some A is not B." 

Note. — These related judgments are now usually treated in Logic 
under Immediate Inference, a division of Reasoning. We put them 
here in order to give the pupil a little clearer idea of the nature and 
use of these judgments. 

III. Conversion of Judgments. — Propositions or judgments 
are converted when the subject and predicate change places, in 
such a manner that the resulting judgment is an inference from 
the given judgment. The resulting judgment is called the con- 
verse; the given judgment is called the convertend. 

Law of Conversion. — The law of conversion is that no term 
mast be distributed in the converse that, is not distributed in the 
convertend. The reason for this is that there should be nothing 
more affirmed in the derived judgment than there is in the given 
judgment. Conversion, according to this law, sometimes re- 
quires a change in the quantity or quality of the convertend. 

Kinds of Conversion. — There are three kinds of conversion ; 
Simple Conversion, Conversion by Limitation, and Conversion by 
Negation, or Contraposition. In Simple Conversion there is no 
change in either quality or quantity. In Conversion by Limita- 
tion, the quality is changed from universal to particular. In 
Conversion by Negation the quality is changed, but not the 
quantity. Let us now see tjie application of these methods t > 
each of the four kinds of judgments. 

The Universal Affirmative. — The Universal Affirmative judg- 
ment, called A, is converted by limitation. For since the predi- 
cate is not distributed, we cannot distribute it in the converse 
by saying all, since no term must be distributed in the converse 



236 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

that was not distributed in the convertend. Thus," all men are 
mortal " by conversion becomes " some mortals are men." There- 
fore A is converted by limitation into I. 

The Universal Negative. — The Universal Negative, E, is con- 
verted simply. Since both terms of E are distributed, they 
may both be distributed in the converse without violating the law 
of conversion. Thus, "no men are angels" becomes by conver- 
sion, " no angels are men." That is, E is converted into E. 

The Particular Affirmative. — The Particular Affirmative, I, 
is also converted simply. For since neither term is distributed in 
I, neither term should be distributed in its converse ; and the con- 
verse must therefore be I. Thus, from "some birds are robins" 
we derive by conversion, "some robins are birds." We cannot 
say " all robins are birds," for though it is true, it is not legiti- 
mately derived from " some birds are robins." 

The Particular Negative. — The Particular Negative is con- 
verted by negation. Thus, from "some birds are not robins" 
we cannot say " some robins are not birds," for we would dis- 
tribute birds in the predicate, which is not distributed in the con- 
vertend. To avoid this we transfer the negative particle from 
the copula to the predicate, so that the convertend becomes I, 
which is simply converted. Thus, for " some birds are not 
robins," we say " some birds are not-robins," or " some birds are 
things not robins," from which we derive by simple conversion 
" some things not robins are birds." 

Other Immediate Inferences. — There are several other 
methods of deriving one judgment from some other judgment, 
which our space does not allow us to consider. For a further 
consideration of the subject the student is referred to Avorks on 
Logic. 

Note. — In the latter part of this treatment of Judgment we have 
trenched a little upon the domain of Logic ; but we do it to make 
clearer that which we have previously discussed, and also to prepare 
students to understand such questions as grow naturally out of the 
subject. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE NATURE OF REASONING. 

REASONING is the process of comparing two objects of 
thought through their relation to a third. Thus, suppose I 
wish to compare the two objects, A and B, and see no relation 
between these objects, but perceive a relation between each of 
them and some third object, C ; I can then infer a relation be- 
tween A and B which I did not immediately see. That is, if A 
equals C and B equals C, I can then infer that A equals B. 
Such an inference is a process of reasoning. . 

Indirect Comparison. — Reasoning is thus a process of indi- 
rect or mediate comparison ; it compares two objects, not directly 
but indirectly, through their common relation to a third object- 
Thus in the illustration given, it will be seen that A and B are 
not compared directly with each other, but indirectly, through 
their common relation to C. The thought goes first from A to 
C, then from B to C, and then from A to B ; or, in other words, 
it goes over from A to B by passing through C. C is thus said 
to mediate between A and B, and the process is one of mediate 
rather than immediate comparison. 

Three Objects of Thought. — A process of reasoning, it is 
seen, embraces three ideas or objects of thought, and requires 
three judgments or propositions. Thus in the argument, — "all 
men are mortal, Socrates is a man, hence Socrates is mortal," — 
the three terms are men, mortal, and Socrates. This is the funda- 
mental form or principle of reasoning. The simplest movement 
in the reasoning process is the comparing of two objects through 
their relation to a third. 

A Comparison of Relations. — Looking at the process more 

(237) 



238 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

closely, it will be seen that an inference in reasoning involves a. 
comparison of relations. We infer the relation of two objects 
from their relations to a third object. We must thus grasp in 
the mind two relations ; and from the 'comparison of these two 
relations we infer a third relation. The two relations from which 
we infer a third, are judgments; hence reasoning may also be 
defined as the process of deriving one judgment from two other 
judgments. We compare the two given judgments, and from 
this comparison derive the third judgment. This constitutes a 
single step in reasoning, and an argument so expressed is called 
a Syllogism. 

Relation to Judgment. — From the explanation of Reason- 
ing, the relation of reasoning and judgment is very readily seen. 
Judgment is a process of direct or immediate comparison ; reason- 
ing is a process of indirect or mediate comparison. Judgment 
deals with only two objects of thought ; reasoning deals with three 
objects of thought. Judgment employs only one proposition; 
reasoning employs three propositions. Judgment compares only 
objects of thought or ideas; reasoning may be regarded as com- 
paring judgments as well as ideas. One infers from a comparison 
of objects or ideas; the other infers from a comparison of re-: 
lations. 

Stewart's View. — Mr. Stewart, in comparing judgment and 
reasoning, says : " Judgments may be compared to blocks of stone 
lying upon the ground, upon any one of which a person may 
elevate himself a slight distance from the ground ; while reason- 
ing may be compared to these same blocks piled up into a grand 
staircase leading to some lofty tower." This makes reasoning a 
simple combination of judgments, the last step of the series being 
just the same as any of the previous steps. 

Objection to Stewart. — This view overlooks the very essence 
of reasoning, which consists in deriving a new judgment from the 
relations expressed in the previous judgments. The third judg- 
ment, derived from the other two, involves a process of thought 
quite different from that of the two judgments upon which the 



THE NATURE OP REASONING. 239 

inference is founded. To carry out the figure of the staircase, the 
third judgment, or inference, should be indicated by placing one 
block, the conclusion, on two other blocks, the premises ; and thus 
all the way to the top, as high as we may build. 

Other' Views of Reasoning. — Writers on mental science 
have not all been so clear on the nature of reasoning as could be 
desired. One view makes the process to consist purely of 
analysis. Mr. Haven, who adopts this view, illustrates it as 
follows: — We take the concept man, and by analysis perceive 
that it contains the attribute of mortality, and thus affirm the 
judgment, "Man is mortal." But the term man also expresses a 
general as well as a complex notion ; and resolving the general 
notion into its individual elements, and taking out one of them, 
as Socrates, we state the proposition " Socrates is a man." Then, 
on the principle that what is true of a class is true of each indi- 
vidual of the class, it follows that mortality, which was predicated 
of the class, may be predicated of Socrates. The affirmation that 
"Socrates is mortal" is virtually implied in the proposition "All 
men are mortal." The process is merely one of analysis. 

Brown's Illustration — Dr. Brown illustrates this view by re- 
ferring to the germ contained in the bulb of a plant. As by 
analysis we may find in the bulb of a plant germ within germ, 
until we are stopped by reason of the imperfection of our instru- 
ments; so in the discovery of truth by reasoning, we are limited 
only by the analytic power of the thinker. There may be races 
of beings, he thinks, whose senses would enable them to perceive 
the ultimate embryo in the plant; and there may be created 
powers of a higher order who can see in one comprehensive 
thought all the truths of which mankind, by successive analyses, 
are enabled to discover only a few. 

Objection to the View. — It is sufficient to remark that this 
view of reasoning, though possessing some truth, is entirely in- 
adequate for the full explanation of the subject. It would ex- 
clude mathematical reasoning altogether, and would render mean- 
ingless many of the rules of logic. It is difficult to see how a 



240 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

science of logic could be constructed on Brown's view of the 
subject. The simplest and best conception of reasoning is that 
of the comparison of two objects through their relation to a third ; 
and this will include every form of mediate reasoning. 

Kinds of Reasoning. — There are two kinds of reasouing, 
called Deductive Reasoning and Inductive Reasoning. We 
shall define and illustrate each, and show the kind of truth to 
which each is adapted. 

Deductive Reasoning. — Deductive Reasoning is the process 
of deriving a particular truth from a general truth. Thus, from 
the general truth that "all metals are expanded by heat," I can 
infer the particular truth that any particular metal, as iron, will 
be expanded by heat. The reasoning of geometry is deductive 
reasoning. The formal statement in deductive reasoning is as 
follows : 

All metals are expanded by lieat ; 
Iron is a metal ; 

Hence, Iron is expanded by heat. 
Inductive Reasoning. — Inductive Reasoning is the process 
of deriving a general truth from particular truths. Thus, from 
the particular truths that "heat will expand iron," "heat will 
expand zinc," etc., I can infer that " heat will expand all metals." 
Whenever we derive a general truth from particular truths we 
reason by induction. The reasoning of natural philosophy is 
mainly inductive reasoning. The formal statement in inductive 
reasoning is as follows: 

Iron, zinc, etc., are expanded by heat ; 

Iron, zinc, etc., are all the metals ; 

Hence, all metals are expanded by heat. 
Relation of Induction and Deduction.— -These two meth- 
ods of reasoning are the reverse of each other. One goes from 
particulars to generals ; the other from generals to particulars. 
One is a process of analysis ; the other is a process of synthesis. 
One rises from facts to laws ; the other descends from laws to 
facts. Each is independent of the other, and each is a valid and 
essential method of inference. 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 241 

Kinds of Truth. — These two methods of reasoning are 
adapted to two different kinds of truth. These kinds of truth 
are distinguished as necessary and contingent truths. " All right 
angles are equal to one another," and "a straight line is the 
shortest distance from one point to another," are examples of 
necessary truths. "Heat expands all metals," and "the planets 
move in elliptical orbits," are examples of contingent truths, 

How they Differ. — These two classes of truths differ not in their 
certainty, but in their necessity. The contingent truth may be 
just as certain as the necessary truth. Thus, "All horned ani- 
mals ruminate," "The sun will rise to-morrow," etc., are just as 
certain as that " Four times three are twelve," or " The whole is 
greater than any of its parts." You can conceive of the opposite 
of one without an absurdity ; but of the opposite of the other you 
cannot conceive. The one is eternal and necessary, subject to no 
contingency, to no possibility of the opposite ; the other is of the 
nature of an event taking place in time, subject to the possibility 
of change, and may be supposed to be different from what it is 
without any absurdity. 

lieasoning Adapted to Truth. — These two classes of truths 
admit of two different kinds of reasoning. Deductive reasoning 
is usually applied to necessary truth ; and inductive reasoning 
to contingent truth. The proof of necessary truths is usually 
called a demonstration, and the reasoning demonstrative reasoning; 
the proof of contingent truths is often called probable reasoning. 
It .may be remarked, however, that we can apply inductive 
reasoning to necessary truth, though it is seldom done; and that 
we also often use demonstrative reasoning in contingent truth ; 
though each has a sphere which seems more appropriate to its 
own nature. 

THE SYLLOGISM. 

Reasoning, as now defined, is the process of deriving one 
judgment from two other judgments. The form in which a pro- 
cess of reasoning is naturally expressed, is called a Syllogism. 
All reasoning can be and naturally is expressed in the form of 
11 



242 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

the syllogism. It applies to both inductive and deductive 
reasoning, and is the form in which these processes are presented. 
Its importance as an instrument of thought requires that it re- 
ceive special notice. 

Definition. — A Syllogism is an argument so expressed that 
the conclusion necessarily follows from the form of the statement. 
Or, it may be defined as a combination of three judgments, in 
which one of them is a necessary inference from the other two. 
Thus, when we say all A is B, and all B is C, it inevitably 
follows that all A is C. So when I affirm the two propositions, 
"All men are mortal," "Socrates is a man," it necessarily follows 
that " Socrates is mortal." The term syllogism is derived from a 
Greek word signifying a reckoning all together, Or reasoning. 

The Three Parts. — A syllogism, it is thus seen, consists of 
three propositions, two of which state the grounds of the argu- 
ment, and the third states the inference which flows from the 
other two. The two propositions from which the third is derived 
are called the premises, from prae, before, and mitto, I send; the 
inference is called the conclusion. Thus, in the example above, 
" All men are mortal" and " Socrates is a man," are the jDreinises, 
and "Socrates is mortal" is the conclusion. 

The Terms. — Each of these propositions, it is seen, contains 
two terms, the subject and the predicate ; and the three propositions 
contain only three terms. One of these terms is found in both 
premises, and is called the middle term; the other two terms are 
called the extremes; both of the extremes are found in the con- 
clusion. The subject of the conclusion is called the minor term, 
and the predicate of the conclusion is called the major term. 
Thus, in the syllogism given, Socrates is the minor term, mortal is 
the major term, and man is the middle term. 

The Premises. — The Premises are named from the term 
which they contain. The premise containing the major term is- 
called the major premise; the premise - containing the minor term 
is called the minor premise. The major premise compares the 
major term with the middle term; the minor premise compares 



THE NATUBE OF KEASONHSTG. 243 

the minor term with the middle term. In the form of the syllo- 
gism given, which may be regarded as the fundamental or typical 
form, the major term is the predicate of the major premise, the 
minor term is the subject of the minor premise, and the middle 
term is the subject of the major and the predicate of the minor 
premise. 

Hen son for the Names. — The middle term is so called be- 
cause it stands intermediate between the other two in the com- 
parison. The minor term is so called because it is usually smaller 
in extension than the other extreme ; the major term is so called 
because it is usually greater in extension than the minor term. 
Thus, in the syllogism given, Socrates includes but one person, 
while the class of mortals includes many persons. The terms are 
conveniently represented by the letters S, M, and P, S represent- 
ing the minor term, or subject of the conclusion, P representing 
the major term, or predicate of the conclusion, and M represent- 
ing the middle term. The general form of the syllogism is thus 
"MisP; SisM; hence S is P." 

Order of Premises. — In the typical form of the syllogism, 
given above, the minor premise, follows the major premise. The 
order of the premises is, however, not fixed and invariable. 
Either the major or the minor premise may be'stated first. From 
Aristotle to Boethius, 470 A. D., the minor premise was placed 
first; since that time most writers on logic have placed the 
major premise first. The former has been called the synthetic, 
the latter the analytic form. 

Order of Conclusion. — The order of the premises and con- 
clusion may also vary. Thus, instead of stating the premises first 
and the conclusion last, we may invert this order and place the 
conclusion first and the premises afterward. Thus " Csesar was a 
tyrant, for he was a conqueror, and all conquerors are tyrants." 
This form is not only valid, but is regarded by some as the more 
natural of the two, and the one most frequently used in ordinary 
speech. Hamilton distinguishes the two forms as analytic and 
synthetic, calling the form just given the synthetic form. 



244: MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Order of Terms.— -The order of the terms in the premises is 
also variable. The middle term may be the subject or predicate 
of either premise, and the other terms will vary accordingly. 
This variation of the position of the terms in the premises gives 
what are called the figures of the syllogism. There are four pos- 
sible arrangements, and hence there are four figures. 

Figures of the Syllogism. — The first figure is that in which 
the middle term is the subject of the major and predicate of the 
minor premise ; as, " M is P ; S is M ; hence S is P." The 
second figure is that in which the middle term is the predicate 
of both premises ; as, " P is M ; S is M ; hence S is P." The third 
figure is that in which the middle term is the subject of both 
premises; as, "M is P; M is S; hence S is P." The fourth 
figure is that in which the middle term is the predicate of the 
major premise and subject of the minor premise; as, "P is M; 
MisS; hence Sis P." 

The fourth figure was not recognized by Aristotle. It .is sup- 
posed to have been introduced by Galen about the second century ; 
it was unnoticed, however, until near the beginning of the thir- 
teenth century. Hamilton discards it, calling it a " logical 
caprice." Still it is a possible theoretical form ; and a syllogism 
may be stated in that form without any violation of the laws of 
thought. 

Unfigured Syllogisms. — When the three terms are equal in 
quantity, the change of figure does not affect the conclusion. 
Thus, in the syllogism, " C equals B, A equals C, hence A equals 
B," the conclusion will not be affected by any change in the 
figure. These terms may be made equal by the explicit quanti- 
fication of the predicate. Thus suppose Ave have the following 

syllogism : 

All men are some mortals ; 
All poets are some men ; 
.•.All poets are some mortals. 
Here, since the terms in each premise are exactly equal in 
quantity, no change will take place in the conclusion by any 
change in the figure of the syllogism. Thus we may have, — 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 245 

Some mortals are all men ; 
Some men are" all poets ; 
.'.Some mortals are all poets. 
This form of the syllogism was introduced by Hamilton, and 
called by him the Unfigured Syllogism. 

Laws of the Syllogism. — The following rules or canons 
apply to the syllogism, and govern the mind in drawing its con- 
clusion. 

1. Affirmative Premises. — If both premises are affirmative, the 
conclusion is affirmative. In other words, if the major and minor 
terms both agree with the same middle term, they will agree with 
each other. This is evident from the axiom that " Things which 
agree with the same thing agree with each other." This is the 
law of affirmative conclusions. We must be sure that we have 
the same middle term, for a conclusion is not always possible 
from two affirmative premises. 

2. Negative Premises. — If both premises are negative, there is no 
conclusion. This is evident from the fact that if both terms disa- 
gree with the same middle term, they may or may not agree with 
each other. There is no ground for a conclusion. Thus from 
" A bird is not a horse ; a robin is not a horse," nothing can be 
inferred. 

3. Negative Conclusion. — If one of the premises is negative, the 
conclusion is negative. This is evident from the fact that if one 
term agrees and another disagrees with a third term, they must 
disagree with each other. Thus from " A man is not a bird ; a 
poet is a man," we infer that " A poet is not a bird." 

4. Middle Term Unequivocal. — The middle term must be une- 
quivocal. That is, it must be used in the same sense in both 
premises, or else we may really compare the minor term with one 
thing and the major with another thing, and thus have no ground 
for a conclusion. Thus, " Feathers are light; light is contrary 
to darkness ; therefore, feathers are contrary to darkness " is an 
invalid syllogism. Here the term "light" is used in two distinct 
senses. In such cases, we really have four terms, and the form 
has been called a " logical quadruped." 



246 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

5. Middle Term Distributed. — The middle term must be dis- 
tributed in at least one of the premises. Otherwise the major term 
may be compared with one part of the middle term, and the 
minor term with another part ; and there will thus be actually 
no common middle term, and consequently no ground for an 
inference. Thus, from "Men are bipeds," and "Robins are 
bipeds," no inference can be drawn, since the part of the class of 
bipeds that agrees with " men " is not the part which agrees with 
"robins." The same is true of "Black is a color; white is a 
color; hence, black is white." Let the student remember that 
the subject of a particidar and the predicate of an affirmative are 
undistributed, and that the subject of the universal and the predi- 
cate of a negative are distributed. 

6. Distribution of Conclusion. — No term must be distributed in 
the conclusion that was not distribided in the premises. This would 
be speaking of more in the conclusion than we have grounds for 
in the premises. Thus, in "All birds are bipeds; no man is a 
bird ; hence, no man is a biped," the conclusion is invalid, since 
the term biped is distributed in the conclusion, being the predi- 
cate of a negative proposition, and it is not distributed in the 
premise. From " All men are bipeds, some men are poets," the 
conclusion must be " Some poets are bipeds," since " poets " was 
not distributed in the premise, being the predicate of an affirma- 
tive proposition. 

7. Particidar Premises. — From two particular premises no conclu- 
sion can be drawn. For, if both premises were I, no term would 
be distributed, and hence the middle term would be undistributed, 
and there would be no conclusion (Prin. 4). If both premises 
were O, there would be two negative premises, and thus no con- 
clusion (Prin. 2). If one premise were I and the other 0, the 
middle term, to be distributed, must be the predicate of O. The 
conclusion, if there is any, will be negative (Prin. 3), and its 
predicate will be distributed ; hence there must be two terms dis- 
tributed in the premises ; and this is impossible, when they are 
I and 0. Hence from two particular premises there is no con- 
clusion. 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 247 

8. Particular Conclusion. — If one premise is particular, the con- 
clusion is particular. To prove this we shall show that a univer- 
sal conclusion must be drawn from universal premises. If the uni- 
versal conclusion is A, then first, both premises are affirmative, 
as is evident from Principles 2 and 3 ; second, the subject of the 
conclusion must be the subject of one premise in order to be dis- 
tributed, since the predicate of an affirmative is not distributed, 
and that premise must be universal ; third, for the same reason the 
middle term must be the subject of the other premise in order to 
be distributed, and that premise must be universal. Hence both 
of the premises must be universal for a universal affirmative con- 
clusion. 

If the universal conclusion be E, then both of its terms are 
distributed, and the middle term must be distributed, and this 
requires three terms to be distributed in the premises. This re- 
quires both premises to be universal and one of them negative, or 
both negative and one of them universal. But from two nega- 
tives we can draw no conclusion ; therefore the premises must 
both be universal. Therefore, since a universal conclusion re- 
quires two universal premises, if one premise is particular, the 
conclusion, if any, cannot be universal, and hence must be partic- 
ular. 

Note. — These several principles enable us to dispose of any cases 
of syllogism that may be presented, and to dispense with the com- 
plicated methods of reduction, as taught by the old logicians. 

Incomplete Syllogism. — In ordinary thought and expression 
we seldom use the complete syllogistic form. One premise is 
often omitted, being supplied mentally by the speaker and 
hearer. A syllogism with one premise unexpressed is called an 
Enthymeme, from en and thymos, meaning in the mind. Thus in 
the following : 

"The Americans are a free people, 
. • .They are happy," 

the major premise "All free people are happy," is unexpressed. 
In the followine; : 



248 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

" Poets are imaginative, 
. • .Bryant was imaginative," 
the minor premise, " Bryant was a poet," is unexpressed. 

An enthymeme, like a complete syllogism, often expresses the 
conclusion with because, or then, or some similar term ; as, 
"Mr. Smith is happy, because he is virtuous." 
"Aldebaran is a star; therefore it shines by its own light." 
The incomplete syllogism is used in ordinary speech because 
the full form makes our argument or conversation seem stiff and 
pedantic. One of the judgments is omitted because it is so 
obvious, both to the speaker and to the hearer, that it would be 
waste of time to propound it. The full form can be readily com- 
pleted when it is needed to test the correctness of the conclusion. 
Complex; Syllogism. — Sometimes several syllogisms are 
united in an abridged form, so that a conclusion may be drawn 
from their combination. Such a complex syllogism is called the 
Sorites or chain-syllogism. 

The Common Sorites. — The ordinary sorites consists of a number 

of syllogisms in the first figure, so combined that the predicate of 

the first premise becomes the subject of the next premise, and so 

on until, in the conclusion, the predicate of the last premise is 

predicated of the subject of the first. Thus, 

"The Hindoos are Asiatics; 

The Asiatics are men ; 

Men are rational animals ; or, 

Rational animals have body and spirit ; 

. • .The Hindoos have body and spirit." 

Goclenian Sorites. — This order may be reversed so that the 

subject of one premise becomes the predicate of the following 

premise, and in the conclusion the predicate of the first premise 

is predicated of the subject of the last premise. Thus, 

"Rational animals have body and spirit, f D is E ; 

Men are rational animals, i C is D ; 

Asiatics are men, O] 

The Hindoos are Asiatics, 
. • .The Hindoos have body and spirit." 
This is called the Goclenian Sorites. 




BisC; 
AisB; 

I .• .AisE. 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 249 

Two Forms Compared. — The first form is known as the Aris- 
totelian Sorites ; the latter is called the Goclenian Sorites, having 
been invented by Goclenius. In the former we go from the terms 
of least extension to the terms of greatest extension; in the latter 
we begin with the term of greatest extension and proceed to the 
least. The former has been called the ascending, and the latter 
the descending form. The two forms may be compared by plac- 
ing them side by side, as below. 

ASCENDING SORITES. DESCENDING SORITES. 

" Caius is a man ; All sentient beings seek happi- 
All men are finite being's ; ness ; 

All finite beings are sentient ; All finite beings are sentient ; 

All sentient beings seek happi- All men are finite beings ; 

ness ; Caius is a man ; 

. • .Caius seeks happiness." . " .Caius seeks happiness. 

DEDUCTIVE REASONING. 

Deductive Reasoning is the process of deriving a particular 
truth from a general truth. Thus, from the proposition that " All 
metals are expanded by heat," we may derive the particular truth 
that any one metal, as zinc, is expanded by heat. Stated in the 
formal manner of the syllogism, we have the following: "All 
metals are expanded by heat; iron is a metal; hence, iron is 
expanded by heat." A deductive argument stated in the syllo- 
gistic form gives us the deductive syllogism. 

An Analytic Process. — Deduction is an analytic process. It 
analyzes a universal truth into the particulars which are em- 
braced in it, and affirms of the particular what is true of the 
universal. Thus the truth that " All men are mortal " is seen to 
contain the particular truth, "Socrates is mortal," and by the 
deductive process, this particular truth is taken out of the 
general truth. Deduction is therefore an inference from the 
whole to its parts, that is, an analytic process. 

A Descendlmj Process. — Deduction is a descending process. 
The general is regarded as higher than the particular ; hence t ) 
11* 



250 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

go from the general to the particular is to descend. Deduction 
descends from higher truths "to lower truths, from laws to facts, 
from causes to phenomena, etc. Given the law, we can by de- 
duction descend to the facts that fall under the law, even if we 
have never before seen the facts ; and so from the cause we may 
pass down to observed and even unknown phenomena. 

Origin of General Truths. — The general truths from which 
we reason to particulars are derived from several distinct sources. 
Some of them are intuitive, as the axioms of mathematics and 
logic. Some of them are derived from induction, as in the 
example " Heat expands all metals." Some of them are merely 
hypothetical, as in the investigation of the physical sciences. 
Many of the hypotheses and theories of the physical sciences are 
used as general truths for deductive reasoning ; as the theory of 
gravitation, the theory of light, etc. Reasoning from the theory 
of universal gravitation, Leverrier discovered the position of a 
new planet in the heavens, before it had been observed by human 
eye. 

Hasis of Deduction. — .The basis of deductive reasoning is 
the axiomatic truth that " Whatever is true of the whole is true 
of the parts,''' or " Whatever is true of the general is true of the 
particular." This principle gives validity to the deductive' 
inference. It is our authority for this inference. If the question 
arises," How do we know that the conclusion is true?" we answer 
we know that it is so from the self-evident proposition that 
" Whatever is true of the whole is true of the parts." The prin- 
ciple may be illustrated by the syllogism " All men are mortal, 
Socrates is a man, etc. " 

Another Statement — The principle may also be stated that 
"Whatever may be affirmed or denied of the whole, may be 
affirmed or denied of the parts." Hamilton expresses it thus : 
" What belongs, or does not belong, to the containing whole, be- 
longs, or does not belong, to each of the contained parts." Aris- 
totle's statement of the law is equivalent to the following : " What- 
ever can be predicated affirmatively or negatively of any class or 



THE 2STATUKE OF REASONING. 251 

terra distributed, can be predicated in like manner of all and 
singular the classes or individuals contained under it." This is 
the celebrated Dictum of Aristotle. 

Origin of the Basis. — This principle is a self-evident and 
necessary truth. It is not derived from reasoning, but lies back 
of and conditions all reasoning. The proposition is the product 
of the iutuitive power. 

I. Another Form of Deduction. — There is another form 
of deductive reasoning in which the major premise does not con- 
tain the conclusion. Thus, " B equals C, and A equals C, hence 
A equals B." Here it will be seen that the major premise, " B 
equals C," does not contain the conclusion, "A equals B," and 
thus we do not go from generals to particulars. It is also seen 
that the law of inference in this syllogism is not that already 
given, " Whatever is true of the whole is true of the parts." The 
law of inference is the axiomatic truth, that " Things which are 
equal to the same thing are equal to one another." 

The Concepts Equal. — The peculiarity of this reasoning is 
that the concepts expressed by the terms compared are not of 
different extent. The three terms are precisely equal, and thus 
there is no subordination of the propositions. This reasoning is 
that which prevails in mathematics. Thus, x — y, and y = 4, 
hence x = 4. Or in geometry, the triangle AB C = the square 
ABCD, and the triangle LMN = the square ABCD; hence the 
triangle ABC= the triangle LMN. 

Reduced to Previous Form. — Some writers endeavor to re- 
solve this into the form in which the law of inference is used as 
the major premise. Thus, "Things that are equal to the same 
thing are equal to each other ; A and B are equal to the same 
thing, C ; hence A and B are equal to each other." 

Objection to This.— If this be insisted upon, we should insist 
with equal propriety upon placing the ordinary deductive syllo- 
gism in a similar form. Thus, we should reason, — 

'"Whatever is true of the general is true of the particular; 
It is true of the general that all men are mortal ; 
Hence it is true of the particular that Socrates is mortal." 



252 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

This would be very awkward and is unnecessary ; and so we 
maintain that the syllogism, "A = B; B = C; hence A = C," 
is in its proper and normal form. And thus the axiom, " Things 
that are equal to the same thing are equal to one another," may 
be regarded as a law of inference in the one case, j ust as the law 
from the general to the particular applies in the other case. 

Note. — To avoid this difficulty, I have sometimes thought it might 
be well to distinguish three kinds of reasoning : Deduction, which 
passes from generals to particulars ; Induction, which passes from 
particulars to generals ; and Conduction, which passes from thing to 
thing of the same rank. Each of these forms, when presented in a 
syllogism, would have its special law of inference and they would 
rank as coordinates. Each can be reduced to the deductive form, 
and if either one is so reduced, all of them should be. It would thus 
seem that there are three kinds of reasoning, or only one kind. This, 
however, would be a radical departure from the accepted theory of 
logic. It is probably better to include this latter form under De- 
duction, and retain the syllogism in the usual form in accordance 
with the explanation I have given. 

II. Mathematical Seasoning. — The form of deduction 
which we have just considered is that found in mathematics, and 
is thus called mathematical reasoning. This is of so much impor- 
tance, being the principal and most extensive application of de- 
ductive reasoning, that it demands a few words of explanation. 

Mediate Comparison. — Mathematical reasoning is a process 
of mediate comparison. It is one of the finest illustrations of the 
reasoning process in which two things are compared through their 
relation to a third. The simplest form of it is " A equals B, but 
B equals C ; hence A equals C." Here it is assumed that we see 
no direct relation between A and C, but infer their equality by 
comparing each with B. A good example of this is seen in the 
demonstration of the square on the hypothenuse, where a square 
and a rectangle are proved equal to each other because they are 
equal to the double of equal triangles. 

Kinds of Mathematical Reasoning. — There are two dis- 
tinct methods of reasoning in mathematics, the Direct and the 
Indirect. By the Direct Method, one quantity is compared with 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 253 

another through their common relation to a third, or by a 
reference to the definitions and axioms, or to some principle 
previously proved. In geometry, one quantity is sometimes 
proved equal to another by superposition. 

By the Indirect Method we may suppose the given proposi- 
tion not to be true, and then show that such a supposition 
leads to an absurdity ; or we make a number of suppositions, one 
of which must be true, and then show that all but the one we 
wish to establish are false. This method is called the method of 
the reductio ad absurdum. It is frequently used to prove the 
converse of a proposition when there is no good direct method. 

Errors in Matliematical Reasoning. — There are two errors 
of reasoning to which young persons are liable. The first is called 
Reasoning in a Circle; the second is Begging the Question. "We 
reason in a circle when, in demonstrating a truth, we employ a 
second truth which cannot be proved without the aid of the first. 
We are said to beg the question when, in order to establish a 
proposition, we employ the proposition itself. 

Mathematical Reasoning Identical. — It has been held by 
Leibnitz and others that mathematical reasoning is merely a 
comparison of identicals, that it is nothing more than a = a; in 
other words, that it is merely a statement that a thing is equiva- 
lent to itself. This opinion is erroneous, and shows an incorrect 
conception of the subject of reasoning. Even in so simple a 
proposition as 3X2 = 6, the two quantities are not identical, 
though they are equal in value : 3 X 2 expresses one conception 
of quantity, " 2 taken 3 times," and 6 expresses another con- 
ception, " six units." So also in 3x4= 2X6, we have two 
entirely different conceptions of quantity; and we only know 
they are equal by their common relation to 12. Thus 3x4 
= 12, and 2 X 6 = 12, hence 3x4=2x6. In geometry 
we can prove two dissimilar figures, as a triangle and a square, 
equal to one another, since both are equal to some common 
quantity. The same thing also holds in algebra. 

Force of Mathematical Reasoning. — The question of the 



254: MENTAL SCIENCE. 

force and irresistible cogency of mathematical reasoning has 
often been discussed. Some philosophers hold that it is merely 
on account of the pains taken to define the terms employed, and 
the strict adherence to these definitions. Stewart ascribes the 
force of mathematical reasoning to the fact that the principles 
from which it sets out — that is, its definitions — are purely hypo- 
thetical, involving no admixture of facts; and that by simply 
reasoning upon these hypotheses, the conclusions follow inevit- 
ably. It is held that the same thing would be true of any other 
science, if we could frame our definitions to suit ourselves instead 
of being obliged to proceed upon facts as our data. The truths 
of mathematics " are necessary in no other sense than that certain 
definitions being assumed, certain suppositions made, then certain 
other things follow." 

Objection to this View.- — -This is an incorrect view of the 
subject, and illustrates the liability of the pure metaphysician to 
error, when he deals with mathematical subjects. The definitions 
of mathematics are not in any sense hypothetical, but describe 
definite ideas, and express certain truths as proj^ositions. An 
hypothesis can be supposed to be other than it is; but a mathe- 
matical definition, as of a circle, is seen to state a truth that 
cannot be supposed to be other than it is. If the points of the 
circumference, for instance, were unequally distant from the 
centre, it would not be a circle. 

The Correct View. — The real reason for the certainty of 
mathematical reasoning may be stated as follows : First, its ideas 
are definite, necessary, and exact conceptions of quantity. 
Second, its definitions, as the description of these ideas, are nec- 
essary, exact, and indisputable truths. Third, the axioms from 
which we derive conclusions by comparison, are all self-evident 
and necessary truths. Comparing these exact ideas by the nec- 
essary laws of inference, the result must be absolutely true. Or, 
stated in another way, using these definitions and axioms as the 
premises of a syllogism, the conclusion follows inevitably. There 
is no place or opportunity for error to creep in to mar or vitiate 
our derived truths. 



THE NATUEE OF SEASONING. 255 

Applied to Inductive Sciences, — Mathematical reasoning 
may be employed in the inductive sciences ; indeed, some of their 
greatest achievements have been obtained through mathematics. 
By it Newton demonstrated the truth of the theory of gravitation ; 
by it Leverrier discovered a new planet in the heavens ; by it the 
exact time of an eclipse of the sun or moon is predicted centuries 
before it comes to pass. Mathematics is the instrument by which 
the engineer tunnels our mountains, bridges our rivers, constructs 
our aqueducts, erects our factories and makes them musical with 
the busy hum of spindles. Take away the results of the reason- 
ing of mathematics, and there would go with it nearly all the 
material achievements which give convenience and glory to 
modern civilization. 

INDUCTIVE SEASONING. 

Inductive Reasoning is the process of deriving a general 
truth from particular truths. It is the process of inferring a 
general law from particular facts. Thus, suppose that I ob- 
serve that heat expands iron, and zinc, and copper, etc.; from 
these facts I can infer that "Heat will expand all metals." Such 
an inference is an argument by induction. In the same manner, 
by observing that many men die, I can infer that " All men are 
mortal." This process of inferring a general truth from partic- 
ular facts is called Induction. 

Unknown from the Known. — Induction is thus the process 
of inferring the unknown from the known. Thus, in the example 
given, from what I know of iron, copper, zinc, etc., I infer that 
which I have not observed in other metals. It is a conclusion 
from something observed to something not observed ; from some- 
thing within to something beyond my sphere of actual experience. 
In other words, it is a process of thought from the known to the 
unknown. 

A Synthetic Process. — Induction is also a synthetic process. 
It combines special facts and finds the general law which com- 
prehends them all. Thus the law that heat expands all metals 



256 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

comprehends all the particular facts of heat expanding each par- 
ticular metal. The particular facts are united by the mind into 
the general law; the general law embraces the particular facts 
and binds them together into a unity of principle and thought. 
Induction is thus a process of thought from the parts to the 
whole — a synthetic process. 

An Ascending Process. — Induction may also be regarded 
as an ascending process: it rises from particular facts to general 
truths. The general truth is conceived as standing above the 
particular truths out of which it is formed. We go up the ladder 
of thought in ascending from the particular to the general ; and 
the facts may be regarded as the rounds of the ladder. 

Relation to Deduction. — The relation of induction to de- 
duction will be clearly seen. Induction and Deduction are the 
converse, the opposites of each other. Deduction derives a par- 
ticular truth from a general truth ; Induction derives a general 
truth from particular truths. This antithesis appears in every 
particular. Deduction goes from generals to particulars ; In- 
duction goes from particulars to generals. Deduction is an 
analytic process ; Induction is a synthetic process. Deduction is 
a descending process — it goes from the higher truth to the lower 
truth; Induction is an ascending process — it goes from the lower 
truth to the higher. They differ also in that Deduction may be 
applied to necessary truths, while Induction is mainly restricted 
to contingent truths. 

Kinds of Induction. — There are two kinds of inductive 
reasoning, which may be distinguished as Logical Induction and 
Practical Induction. Logical Induction assumes that we know 
all the particulars in inferring a general truth. This, however, 
in practice, is usually impossible. We cannot know all the facts, 
so we assume that the facts known represent those which are not 
known, and employ the principle that " What is true of the many 
is true of the whole." This is the inductive inference that is of 
real, practical use to us. The former is called logical, because 
the inference carries with it a logical necessity, without the pos- 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 257 

sibility of exception. The latter gives us a conclusion not nec- 
essarily true, but which we usually accept as true. Logical in- 
duction is called by some writers induction by simple enumeration. 

Basis of Induction. — The basis of induction is the propo- 
sition that what is true of the many is true of the whole. Esser, an 
eminent logician, states it thus, "That which belongs or does not 
belong to many things of the same kind, belongs or does not belong 
to all things, of the same kind." This proposition is founded on 
our faith in the uniformity of nature : take away this belief, and 
all reasoning by induction falls. The basis of induction is thus 
often stated to be man's faith in the uniformity of nature.. In- 
duction has been compared to a ladder upon which we ascend 
from facts to laws. This ladder cannot stand unless it has some- 
thing to rest upon ; and this something is our faith in the con- 
stancy of nature's laws. 

Origin of Basis. — The basis of induction— our faith in the 
uniformity of nature's laws — is said to be intuitive. It seems to 
be a law of our intelligence, something growing out of the consti- 
tution of the mind. Whenever we have uniformly observed that 
a number of different objects of the same class possess a common 
attribute, we are, by a law of our nature, disposed to conclude 
that this attribute is possessed by all the objects of this class. 
This principle of extending our inferences beyond the limits of 
experience is universal, and manifests itself at the earliest age of 
intellectual development. It may not always be expressed in a 
definite proposition, but it is tacitly assumed and acted upon by 
all men. It has, therefore, been regarded as a natural principle 
of our intelligence. 

The intuitive origin of this principle is held by many of the 
German and Scotch metaphysicians, and also by Cousin and 
others of the French thinkers. Many modern thinkers, however, 
maintain that it is itself an inductive truth, a truth learned from 
experience and observation ; and that it is by no means among 
the first, but among the latest of our inductions. In reply to this 
view, we remark that the mind manifests a belief in this principle 



258 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

at a very early age ; and that if we assume this principle to be 
an induction,, it takes away our basis of inductive reasoning. 

Limits of Belief. — This principle must be employed with 
certain limitations. To infer universally that what is true of the 
many is true of the whole, will lead us into error. " Many of the 
books in my library have green covers, therefore all have," 
would be evidently an incorrect inference. "Many dogs bark, 
therefore all dogs bark," is contradicted by a species of dog found 
in Greenland. The people of Siam, who know nothing of ice, 
might infer that water can never be in any other than a liquid 
state ; or the inhabitants of Central Africa, who have never seen 
a white man, might infer that all men are black. The error in 
the first and second cases consists in not noticing the exceptions; 
in the third and fourth it seems to be in not limiting the law to 
" similar circumstances." 

I. Criteria of Induction. — Since mistakes may be fre- 
quently made in the application of the principle of inductive 
reasoning, the question arises how to apply the j:>rinciple cor- 
rectly ; that is, when we are warranted in taking some instances 
as samples of the whole class. This leads us to the establishment 
of certain laws or rules called the Criteria of Induction. 

Simple Enumeration. — The first criterion for the application 
of the law is that of complete enumeration. If each one of the 
particulars has the property under consideration, then it is con- 
clusive that all have it. Thus, if it is seen that May, June, July, 
and August, which are the months of the greatest growth, are the 
only months that do not contain the letter r, then the conclusion 
is certain that "the months without the letter r are the months 
of greatest growth." If the astronomer finds, by actual observa- 
tion, that each of the planets moves in an elliptical orbit, then it 
is absolutely certain that all the planets move in elliptical orbits. 

This is what Bacon calls Induction by Simple Enumeration. It 
has also been called Empirical Induction, because it does not go 
beyond actual experience. Hamilton calls it Logical Induction, 
because it is the only induction which is necessitated by the laws 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 259 

of thought. It is, however, entirely unimportant in the discovery 
of truth, as it does not reach beyond the sphere of experience. 
For progress in thought, we need an induction that transcends 
experience, and enables us to step beyond the known into the 
sphere of the unknown, and infer what we have not yet seen. 

A Causal Agency. — The second criterion is the perception 
of a causal agency or some other uniform concomitant which 
tends to secure a uniform result among all the similar cases. 
Thus, by observation astronomers found that eclipses followed 
one another in regular order ; they could then, by induction, infer 
that they would repeat in this order, and thus foretell an eclipse ; 
but when the true theory of the motions of the heavenly bodies 
was discovered, the cause of this regularity became known, and 
the predictions of eclipses became much more certain. So also 
when we observe that several planets revolve in elliptical orbits, 
we may infer that all planets revolve in elliptical orbits; but 
when we add to this the- principle that their motions are produced 
by the action of centrifugal and centripetal forces, the product of 
whose joint action is an elliptical orbit, the conclusion that all 
planets move in elliptical orbits becomes almost indisputable. 
The cause gives a stamp of certainty that does not accompany 
the mere multiplicity of cases, on account of the principle that 
like causes produce like effects. 

Causes Difficult to Discover. — Causes are not always readily 
ascertained; indeed there is often very great difficulty in deter- 
mining the causes of facts and phenomena. These difficulties arise 
from several sources, a few of which we mention. First, the 
cause is occult, not a thing of sense, and the fact that acts as a 
cause is not perceived in that relation to other facts. Second, 
causes seldom or never act simply ; in most cases any given fact 
is the result of several causes all working to the same end. 
Third, causes sometimes interfere and counteract or modify one 
another's influence. Fourth, the same result may sometimes be 
produced by different causes. Fifth, things apparently related as 
cause and effect may both be effects of the same cause. 



£60 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

II. Tests of Causal Agency. — This difficulty in determining 
the cause of facts and phenomena leads to the investigation of 
tests by which we may ascertain the causal agency .in any par- 
ticular case and thus be able to make an inductive inference. 
These several tests as given by Mill and now accepted by nearly 
all subsequent writers, are as follows: the Method of Agreement, 
the Method of Difference, the Method of Residues, and the 
Method of Concomitant Variations. 

Method of Agreement. — The Method of Agreement, as stated 
by Atwater, is, — If, whenever a given object or agency is present, 
without counteracting forces, a given effect is produced, there is strong 
evidence that the object or agency is the cause of the effect. Thus, if 
in every application of a given degree of heat water boils, iron ex- 
pands, and clay hardens, we may infer that heat is the cause of 
these effects; and we are authorized to draw the inductive 
inference that whenever the cause is applied the effect will follow. 
We must remember, however, that the same effect may be pro- 
duced by different causes ; as the sensation of heat may arise from 
a fire, or warm weather, or a fever, or excessive clothing ; but it 
is usually easy to determine which one of the several causes 
actually produced the effect. 

Method of Difference. — The Method of Difference is, — If 
when the supposed cause is present the effect is present, and when the 
supposed cause is absent the effect is wanting, there being in neither 
case any other agents present to effect the resxdt, we may reasonably 
infer that the supposed cause is the real one. Thus, we have a 
double proof that sound is the result of vibrations of air produced 
by a resonant body, if, on the one hand, whenever sound is heard 
such vibrations are found ; and whenever such vibrations appear 
sound is given forth ; and if, on the other hand, a bell or sonorous 
body yields no sound when struck in an exhausted receiver. So 
also it proves "that the contact of moisture is the cause of the de- 
composition of animal matter, if, whenever the latter occurs 
moisture is present; if dryness checks or arrests it; and if salt, 
which prevents it, acts by detaching the water from the meats 
which it preserves." 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 201 

Method of Residues. — The Method of Residues, or Residual 
Variations, is, — When in any phenomena we find a result remain- 
ing after tlie effects of all known causes are estimated, we may 
attribute it to a residual agent not yet reckoned. Thus, it was found 
that the velocity of sound as derived by experiment differed from 
the velocity as determined by the calculation of the motion of air 
waves. This residual velocity was a perplexing fact, until the 
happy thought came to La Place that it might arise from the 
heat developed by the motion of the air-waves. The result of 
such a residual cause was calculated, and found to furnish a com- 
plete explanation of the variation, and thus established the .sup- 
position of La Place. 

Concomitant Variations. — The Method of Concomitant 
Variations is, — When a variation in a given antecedent is ac- 
companied by a variation of a given consequent, they are in some 
manner related as cause and effect. Thus, it was proved by Pascal 
that the column of mercury in the Torricellian tube was counter- 
poised by a column of air, by ascertaining that when the instru- 
ment was carried up a mountain the height of the column of 
mercury diminished in proportion as the height of the column of 
air above it was diminished. 

Now, as Atwater remarks, whenever either of these criteria 
is found, free from conflicting evidence, and especially when 
several of them concur, the evidence is clear that the cases ob- 
served are fair representatives of the whole class, and warrant r. 
valid universal inductive conclusion. 

HYPOTHESIS AND THEORY. 

In Inductive Reasoning, we cannot always reach the general 
truth, especially when it is a cause or a law, by a mere synthesis 
of the facts and phenomena. In such cases, the mind frames a 
supposition or conjecture, which is received as provisionally true 
and tested by the facts. Sometimes this supposition is made from 
a few facts, and other facts are searched for and collected to test 
its correctness. Such a supposition or conjecture is called an 



262 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Hypothesis or a Theory. We shall devote a few words <o the 
explanation of each. 

An Hypothesis* — An Hypothesis may be defined as a suppo- 
sition or conjecture to account for facts and phenomena. It is a 
judgment which is held to be possibly, nor certainly, true; and 
whoso truth is to be tested by the facts. Such a conjecture may 
apply either to the cause of I'aots, as the movement in elliptical 
orbits, or to the law which governs facts, as the law of "equal 
areas in equal times." 

A Theory. — A Theory is an accepted explanation of I'aots and 
phenomena. It. may thus be defined as a verified hypothesis. 
When an hypothesis is shown to explain all the t'aets that are 
known, these i'aots being varied ami extensive, it is said to be 
verified, ami becomes a theory. Thus we have the theory of uni- 
versal gravitation, the Copernican theory of the solar system, the 
undulatory theory of light, etc., all of which were originally more 
hypotheses. 

The Term Used Loosely. — This is the manner in which the 
term is usually employed in the inductive philosophy; though it 
must be admitted that it is not always used in this strict sense. 
Discarded hypotheses are often referred to as theories: ami that 
which is actually a theory is sometimes called an hypothesis. 
Thus writers speak of the phlogistic and antiphlogistic theories, 
the theory of caloric, etc.. hypotheses which were never verified 
anil are now discarded. The term theory is also used in mathe- 
matics in a different sense, meaning the principles of the subject- 
in distinction from the practice of it. 

Probability of Hypotheses. — The probability of an hypoth- 
esis is in proportion to the number of facts and phenomena it will 
explain. The larger the number of facts and phenomena that it 
will satisfactorily account for. the greater our faith in the correct- 
ness of our supposition. Thus the larger the number of the 
phenomena of light which the "undulatory hypothesis" will ex- 
plain, the greater the probability of its being a correct suppo- 
sition. If there is more than one hypothesis in respect to the 



'I HE -vi i BE OP REASOK 263 

tacts under consideration, that one which accounts for the 
greatest number of facts i the most probable. Thug, when it 
''■ii that the supposition that light was caused by undulations 
accounted for more facts than the hypothesis of corpuscles, the 
first supposition became the more probable. 

Verification of Hypotheses. — In order to verify an hypoth- 
esis, it must be shown that it will account for all the facte and 
phenomena, [f these facts are numerousand varied, and the sub- 
ject is so thoroughly investigated that it Is quite certain that no 
important class of facts has been overlooked, the supposition is 
regarded as true, and the hypothesis is said to be verified. Thus, 
the hypothesis of the "daily rotation " of the earth on its axis to 
account for the succession of day and night is accepted as abso- 
lutely true. This is tin; view taken by \)r. WTiewell and n 
other thinkers in respect to the verification of an hypothesis. 

Another View. Some writers, however, as Mill and his 

school, maintain that in order to verify an hypoth< must 

show not only that it explains all the facts and phenomena, but 
that there is no other possible hypothesis which will account for 
them. According to this, the "undulatory hypothesis" of light 
has not been verified, since it has never been shown that the phe- 
nomena of light could not be accounted Tor by some other suppo- 
sition. The former view of verification is regarded as the correct 
one. By the latter view, it is evident that an hypothe is could 
never be verified. 

Origin of Hypotheses. — The hypotheses of science originate 
in what is called anticipation. They are not the result of a mere 
synthesis of facts, for no combination of facts can give the la 
cause. We do not see the law; we see the facts, and the mind 
thinks the Jaw. Jiy the power of anticipation, the mind often 
leaps from a lew facts to the cause which produces them or the 
law which governs them. Many hypotheses were hut. a happy 
intuition of the mind. They were the result of what La Place 
calls "a great guess,'- or of what Plato -■> beautifully design - 
as "a sacred suspicion of truth." The forming of hypotheses re- 



264: MENTAL SCIENCE. 

quires a suggestive mind, a lively fancy,- a philosophic imagination, 

that catches a glimpse of the idea through the form, or sees the 
law standing behind the fact. 

1 '<if tie of Hypotheses. — The value o\' hypotheses to science 
can hardly be overstated. Nearly all the great truths of the 
physical sciences were once merely hypotheses. The idea of the 
identity of lightning and electricity lay in Franklin's mind as a 
mere supposition until he proved it by means oi' his silken kite. 
The Gopernican theory of the solar system was a mere hypothesis, 
until it was verified by the observations of astronomers. Kepler 
made and rejected twenty suppositions in regard to the shape of 
the earth's orbit before he discovered the true one. Newton's 
theory of universal gravitation was a mere hypothesis when it 
first occurred to his mind as he sat in the garden and saw the 
apple fall, and was accepted as true only when, failing at first, he 
at last demonstrated its correctness. 

Use of Wrong Hypotheses. — Even incorrect hypotheses may 
be of use in scientific research, since they may lead to more correct 
suppositions. The supposition of the circular motions of the 
heavenly bodies around the earth as a centre, which led to the 
conception of epicycles, etc., and at last to the true theory, is an 
illustration of this. So the ''theory of phlogiston" in chemistry, 
made many facts intelligible, before the true one of "oxidation" 
superseded it. And so, as Thomson says, "with the theory that 
'Nature abhors a vacuum,' which served to bring together many 
cognate tacts not previously considered as related." Even an 
incorrect conception of this kind has its place in science, so long 
as it is applicable to the facts : when facts occur which it cannot 
explain, we either correct it or replace it by a new one. The 
pathway of science, some one remarks, is strewn with the remains 
of discarded hypotheses. "To try wrong guesses," says Dr. 
Whewell, "is with most persons the only way to hit upon right 
ones." 

Application of Hypotheses. — This subject is of so much im- 
portance as illustrating those mental operations that belong to 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 265 

science and practical life that I add a few more illustrations, 
quoting from Thomson's Laws of Thought: "The system of 
anatomy which has immortalized the name of Oken, is the conse- 
quence of a flash of anticipation which glanced through his mind 
when he picked up in a chance walk the skull of a deer, bleached 
and disintegrated by the weather, and exclaimed, after a glance, 
'Jt is part of a vertebral column!' When Newton saw the 
apple fall, the anticipatory question flashed through his mind, 
' Why do not the heavenly bodies fall like this apple?' In 
neither case had accident any important share; Newton and 
Oken were prepared by the deepest previous study to seize upon 
the unimportant fact offered to them, and show how important it 
might become; and if the apple and the deer-skull had been 
wanting, some other falling body, or some other skull, would have 
touched the string so ready to vibrate. But in each case there 
was a great step of anticipation ; Oken thought he saw the type 
of the whole skeleton in the single vertebra, whilst Newton con- 
cei ved at once that the whole universe was full of bodies tending 
to fall." 

" The discovery of Goethe, which did for the vegetable kingdom 
what Oken did for the animal, that the parts of a plant are to be 
regarded as metamorphosed leaves, is an apparent exception to 
the necessity of discipline for invention, since it was the discovery 
of a poet in a region to which he seemed to have paid no especial 
■or laborious attention. But Goethe was himself most anxious to 
rest the basis of this discovery upon his observation rather than 
his imagination, and doubtless with good reason." " As with 
■other great discoveries, hints had been given already, though not 
pursued, both of Goethe's and Oken's principles- Goethe left his 
to be followed up by others, and but for his great fame, perhaps 
his name would never have been connected with it. Oken had 
amassed all the materials necessary for the establishment of his 
theory ; he was able at once to discoyer and conquer the new ter- 
ritory." 

12 



266 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ANALOGY. 

Analogy is that process of thought by which we infer that if 
two things resemble each other in one or more particulars, they 
will resemble each other in some other particular. The term 
analogy is derived from ana and logos, and means, literally, ac- 
cording to proportion. 

Illustration. — To illustrate analogy, suppose that two objects, 
A and B, are observed to agree in one or more qualities, and we 
find a quality in A that we have not observed in B ; we infer, by 
analogy, that B also possesses that attribute. Newton observed 
that the diamond possessed a high degree of refractive power 
compared with its density ; he knew this to be true of some 
bodies which were combustible; hence he inferred by analogy, 
that the diamond contained a combustible element. He made 
the same inference also in respect to water, and in both cases his 
inference was correct. 

Law of Analogy. — Analogy thus infers from the partial 
similarity of two or more things their total similarity. The prin- 
ciple of inference is, — when one thing' resembles another in known 
particulars, it will resemble it also in the unknown. Another state- 
ment of the principle is, if two things agree in several particulars, 
they will also agree in other particulars. Thus, suppose the attri- 
butes a, b, c, d, and e are found in A, and part of them, as a, b t 
and c are found in B ; then by analogy we would infer that the 
other attributes, d and e, are found in B. 

Application of the Principle. — This principle is in constant 
application in ordinary life and in science. A physician, in 
visiting a patient, says, this disease corresponds in several par- 
ticulars with typhoid fever, hence it will correspond in all par- 
ticulars, and is typhoid fever. ' So, when the geologist discovers 
a fossil animal with large, strong, blunt claws, he infers that it 
procured its food by scratching or burrowing in the earth. It 
was by analogy that Dr. Buckland constructed an animal from a 
few fossil bones, and, when subsequently the bones of the entire 
animal were discovered, his construction was found to be correct- 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 267 

Relation to Induction. — The reasoning by Analogy is closely 
related to that of Induction. They agree in this, that they both 
proceed from the known to the unknown, from something within 
to something beyond the sphere of observation. They differ, 
however, in an important respect. Induction infers from the 
particular to the general, and analogy infers from one particular 
to another particular. Analogy infers more in respect to an 
object than we have observed ; Induction infers more in respect to 
a class than we have observed. Thus,in analogy, having observed 
that the Earth and Venus are alike in many particulars, we infer 
that Venus is inhabited because the Earth is. By induction, 
having observed that the Earth, Venus, Mars, and several of the 
planets, revolve in elliptical orbits, we infer that all of the planets 
revolve in such orbits. 

The Laiv of Each. — The law of induction is that "what is 
true of many is true of all ; " the law of analogy is " things that 
have some things in common have other things in common." In 
induction the inference is that of a unity in plurality; in analogy, 
the inference is that of a plurality in unity. In the former it is 
a law of the one in many; in the latter it is the law of the many 
in one. Induction proceeds on the principle, — one in many, there- 
fore one in all; analogy proceeds on the principle, many in one, 
therefore all in one. Thus, if the attribute a is found in A, B, C, 
D, etc., and A, B, C, D, etc., belong to the class Q, then by in- 
duction we infer that the attribute a belongs to the class Q. 
While by analogy we infer that if a, b, c, d, and e are found in A, 
and a, b, and e are in B, d and e will be found in B. 

Probability of Analogy. — The probability of analogy de- 
pends on the number of observed resemblances. Every similarity 
which is noticed between two objects increases the probability 
that the two objects resemble each other in some other property. 
When the two resemble each other in all respects, there is no 
longer any doubt that a property found in one object is also 
found in the other. In comparing two objects, the differences as 
well as the similarities must be taken into consideration. These 



268 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

come into competition in our judgment, and must be weighed 
against one another, and the inference be given on the side which 
has the most weight. To illustrate, suppose the observed resem- 
blances between two objects are to the observed differences as four 
to one; then we conclude that the probability is four to one that 
the objects will agree in some property observed in one object 
and not in the other. That is, there are four chances out of five 
of such agreement. 

Illustration of Probability. — The trite example of the 
proof of the inhabitability of the moon is a good illustration of 
this principle of probability of analogy. The moon resembles the 
earth in figure, motion, opacity, relation to the sun, etc.; but the 
earth is inhabited, therefore it is probable that the moon re- 
sembles the earth in this respect, and is also inhabited. But 
there are points of dissimilarity which create a counter-probability 
that the moon is not inhabited. The moon is thought to have no 
atmosphere or water ; but air and water are necessary to life on the 
earth ; hence life cannot exist in the moon unless under different 
circumstances from what it exists in the earth. Now the greater 
the number of resemblances between the two planets in other re- 
spects, the less is it probable that they differ in the mode of sus- 
taining life; so that the resemblances noted do themselves become 
presumptions against the moon being inhabited ; and the greater 
the number of resemblances the less the probability of the moon 
being inhabited. 

Use of A nalog */.— Analogy is of value in the discovery of 
new facts, as in discovering the combustible element of water and 
the diamond. By analogy Franklin was led to make the experi- 
ment with his kite that proved the identity of electricity and 
lightning. Analogy also aids induction in the discovery of laws 
and causes. It often suggests the hypotheses which induction 
afterwards proves to be true. It frequently points out the road 
to experiment and induction, and thus pioneers the way to the 
discovery of truth. The fall of the apple, by analogy, suggested 
to Newton the idea of the moon falling towards the earth, which 
resulted in the discovery of the great law of gravitation. 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 269 

Argument Deceptive. — The argument from analogy is 
plausible, but often deceptive. Thus to infer that since American 
swans are white the Australian swan is white, gives a false con- 
clusion, for it is really black. So to infer that because John 
Smith has a red nose and is a drunkard, that Henry Jones who 
also has a red nose is also a drunkard, would be a dangerous 
inference. The common argument, — since animals and nations 
both grow from infancy, and animals die, therefore nations Avill 
also decay, — is as delusive as it is plausible. Conclusions of this 
kind, drawn from analogy, are frequently fallacious. Mandeville 
uses the following argument against popular education : " If the 
horse knew enough, he would soon throw his rider." He intends 
to imply two pairs of related terms ; thus, " As the horse is to the 
rider, so are the people to their rulers;" which is of course a 
fallacy, since the relations are not similar. 

To be Used With Caution. — The inference from analogy, 
like that from induction, should be used with caution. Its con- 
clusion must not be regarded as certain, but merely as reaching 
a high degree of probability. The inference from a part to a 
part, no more than from a part to the whole, is attended with any 
rational necessity. To attain certainty, we must show that the 
principles which lie at the root of the process are either necessary 
laws of thought or necessary laws of nature ; both of which are 
impossible. Hence analogy can pretend to only a high degree 
of probability. It may even reach a large degree of certainty, 
but it never reaches necessity. We must, therefore, be careful 
not to accept any inference from analogy as tfue until it is 
proved to be true by actual observation and experiment, or by 
such an application of induction as to remove all reasonable 
doubt. 

Influence on Literature. — Analogy, in its popular sense of 
similarity, exercises an influence on language and literature. In 
many cases, visible or tangible things lend their names to invis- 
ible and spiritual things, from some analogy more or less striking. 
Thus we speak of a clear statement, a lofty idea, a deep thought, 



270 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

in which the adjectives applied to immaterial things are drawn 
from the analogies of the material world. So also the figures of 
rhetoric, — the simile, the metaphor, personification, etc. — are 
derived from the analogies perceived between different things. 
Poetry, wit, and even the most dignified orations, abound in 
figures and illustrations drawn from the similitudes of nature. 

TESTIMONY. 

The materials used in inductive reasoning are obtained in two 
ways ; by Experience and by Testimony. Experience has 
reference to the knowledge we gain for ourselves by perception ; 
and includes ordinary observation and experiment. Observation 
is the percej)tion of nature in her ordinary or usual relations. 
By experiment man puts nature into new or difFerent relations, 
and observes the result. The other source of facts is Testimony, 
which we shall now discuss. 

Definition of Testimony. — By Testimony, in philosophy, is 
meant the statement to one of the experience of another. It im- 
plies and is usually restricted to the communication of facts not 
observed by the person to whom they are stated. Such a state- 
ment may be made either orally Or in writing ; we may thus have 
two kinds of testimony ; oral and written. These statements may 
be true or untrue ; they may be worthy or unworthy of belief; 
and consequently the conclusions drawn from them may be true 
or false. It is thus necessary to investigate the credibility of 
testimony, and determine the warrants of our belief in it. 

Testimony Probable. — Testimony is in itself probable. It 
is natural for the normally constituted mind to state what is true ; 
a statement to deceive is contrary to the natural working of the 
human intellect and the moral nature. It is also natural for us 
to believe what is stated to us. As children we confide in the 
statements of parents and companions ; and it is only as we grow 
older and find ourselves deceived, that Ave begin to be suspicious 
and grow wary and cautious in accepting a statement as true. 
A belief in testimony is also reasonable, since man's observations 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 271 

are usually reliable and his moral intentions trustworthy. There 
is usually some strong motive required to induce a man to testify 
to a falsehood. 

Character of Witness. — The ere Jibility of testimony depends 
somewhat on the character of the witness. It is natural to place 
more confidence in the testimony of a man of known veracitv 
than in the statements of one of known falsity. The credibility 
of testimony, however, is not determined entirely by the character 
of the witness. A bad man may tell the truth ; a man of good 
reputation may tell a falsehood. Still it is reasonable to place 
more confidence in the testimony of a man of good reputation 
than in that of a person whose character is questionable. 

Conditions of Belief. — There are certain conditions which 
limit or modify our belief in testimony. These conditions may 
all be embraced under two distinct classes: first, those which 
relate to the testimony itself; and second, those which relate to 
the person giving the testimony. Both of these conditions are 
necessary for the credibility of testimony; and if either one is 
wanting, the testimony is to that extent weakened. 

First Condition. — In respect to the character of the testimony, 
the first requirement is, that it must not contradict the laws of 
thought, nor the immutable laws of nature. Thus, if one should 
testify that he had seen a part greater than a whole, or had 
demonstrated the inequality of two right angles, we should not 
accept his testimony as true. So if any one testified that he knew 
a man who thought with his toes and walked with his eyes, we 
are authorized to refuse to believe his testimony. A second re- 
quirement is that respecting the character of the narrative, the 
condition being that it should be explicit, comparatively full, and 
self-consistent. The concurrence of the testimony of several wit- 
nesses is also a condition of belief. 

Second Condition. — The second general condition of credibility, 
that in respect to the person, regards his competency and veracity, 
or honesty. The ability or competency of a witness depends upon 
his power to correctly observe facts, and also to correctly report 



272 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

them. Any lack of ability in observing or reporting facts 
weakens the credibility of his testimony. Weakness of eyesight 
or hardness cf hearing would affect the credibility of a man's 
testimony in respect to what he had seen or heard. The veracity 
of a witness implies his desire and intention to report correctly. 
It includes both the character of the person and the motive which 
governs him in his testimony. Any evidence of a lack of veracity 
evidently impairs the credibility of the testimony. These two 
conditions, ability and veracity, do not imply one another, for it 
not unfrequently happens that where the honesty is greatest, the 
competency is least, and vice versa. 

Strength of Proof. — A concurrence of these two classes of 
conditions constitutes the strength of testimony. In any case of 
testimony, if we know the witness to be a person of good character, 
that there is no motive for deception, that the statement is full, 
explicit, and consistent, and if it coincides with the statement of 
other witnesses, — then, by a law of our nature, we are compelled 
to believe what is testified to. Such a belief is entirely natural, 
and almost inevitable. Indeed, it has been shown that "it is 
always possible to assign a number of independent witnesses so 
great, that the falsity of their concurrent testimony shall be 
mathematically more improbable, and so more incredible, than 
the truth of their statement be it what it may." 

Testimony Weakened. — The probability of testimony is 
weakened in proportion as the above conditions do not fully 
co-exist. If there is but a single witness, or if a number are not 
of good character, or if there be some motive for deception, or if 
they be not entirely agreed as to the principal facts of the case, or 
the narrative be inconsistent or contradictory, or the statement 
vague and hesitating, — in so far as several or all of these con- 
ditions co-exist, the testimony would be weakened. It is held, 
however, that we may always suppose a case so strong that the 
falsity of the witnesses would be a greater miracle than the truth 
of their testimony. This is claimed to be true with respect to the 
testimony of the witnesses to our Saviour's miracles. 



THE NATURE OF REASONING. 273 

Witness May be Mistaken. — In testing testimony, the possi- 
bility of a witness being mistaken in his observation, or in some 
inference connected with the observation, is to be taken into con- 
sideration. That is, the appearance may have been just such as 
is described, but there may have been some illusion of the senses. 
Thus an oar in the water looks as if it were bent, but the person 
is mistaken who affirms that it is bent. So one who should 
testify that he saw a ball of fire or an angelic form hovering in 
the air, might suppose he saw them, but be mistaken ; the appear- 
ance may have been as described, while there was neither a ball 
of fire nor an angel. The witness may report correctly the ap- 
pearance, but be mistaken in respect to what it was that he heard 
or saw. This must be determined by the rules of common sense 
which guide us in the ordinary affairs of life, aided, in some cases, 
by such scientific principles as may be applicable to the subjects 
of testimony. With these to guide us, we can usually satisfy our- 
selves in respect to the facts of testimony upon which we are to 
base our inferences. 
12* 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE CULTURE OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 

THE Understanding, like the other faculties, can be culti- 
vated, and we now proceed to discuss the culture of this 
faculty. In this discussion we shall first speak in general of the 
importance of such culture, and then explain the methods of cul- 
ture in each one of the specific forms of the faculty. 

I. The Importance op Culture. — The culture of the under- 
standing touches the highest interests of mankind. No faculty 
contributes more to the happiness and well-being of man, or does 
more for the progress of society and civilization. The under- 
standing is the faculty of thought, and man as a thinker occupies 
the highest position of honor and usefulness. By the power of 
thought man becomes the master of the world. It is the attribute 
of creative thought that crowns him with the prerogative of 
authority, enabling him to enslave the forces of nature and use 
them for his comfort and happiness. 

For Man's Excellence. — The understanding should be culti- 
vated for the perfection of our intellectual nature. The power 
of thought is the highest activity of the intellect. The man of 
thought is the man of dignity and power; the thinkers of the 
world are the men whom the world delights to honor. The great 
philosopher is enthroned in the memory of mankind, and his 
achievements live with the ages. Plato, Aristotle, Kant, and 
Locke, are the names around which the Avorld twines its brightest 
laurels. The discoveries of Copernicus, Newton, Kepler, and 
La Place, will stand as monuments to their memory when marble 
columns and tablets of brass have mouldered to dust. The power 
of thought should therefore be cultivated for its own intrinsic 

excellence. 

(274) 



THE CULTURE. OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 275 

For the Progress of Science. — The understanding should be 
cultivated for the progress of science. Science is itself an object 
worthy of our attention ; the temples of science are as beautiful 
as the Parthenon and more enduring than the Pyramids. Science 
is also a means of progress and development to the race ; the 
progress of civilization is largely due to the development of the 
truths of science. This development is the result of thought. It 
was the profound thinkers of antiquity that laid the foundation 
of philosophy and mathematics. It was the profound thinkers 
of the last few centuries that gave such far-reaching application 
to mathematical and astronomical science. It is to the great 
thinkers of the world that we owe the almost marvellous theories 
and discoveries of modern science. It is thus evident that the 
culture of thought-power will aid in the progress of science. 

For the Progress of Truth. — We need the culture of the 
understanding for the progress of truth. Science itself is a body 
of truth ; but there is truth also outside of the sciences, the truths 
of morality and politics, of social life and religion. Much of this 
truth, that has not yet been organized into science, possesses a 
dignity and is of value in itself, and thus merits our best efforts 
for its comprehension and development. Truth is also a blessing 
to mankind in its influence upon his condition and well-being, 
and thus has further claims upon us for its discovery and dis- 
semination. Truth is the herald of social and national progress : 
it is the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, to 
lead the march of events towards the promise of a brighter 
future. These truths are reached by the power of thought ; and 
the understanding, which gives this power of thought, should 
therefore be carefully developed. Man should be a truth-lover, 
a truth-seeker, and a truth-finder ; and the object of education 
should be to develop this taste and ability, and make him both a 
lover of thought and a thinker. 

For Success in Life. — The faculty of the understanding 
should be cultivated also for the advantage it brings to us per- 
sonallv. No facultv contributes more to hio-h success in life than 



276 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

the power of thought. The man of good judgment, the man that 
can think clearly and comprehensively, the man that can pene- 
trate the future and foresee the coming event, — this man will 
usually be successful in the business affairs of life. The great 
business men, the celebrated merchants, speculators, and railroad 
presidents, are usually men of great thought-power. The great 
general plans his campaign with judgment and foresight, and 
wins his battles by intellectual combinations, quite as much as by 
the valor of his soldiers. Other things being equal, the man of 
best thought-power will be the most successful in the business 
of life. 

II. Neglect of Culture. — The culture of the understanding 
has been very generally neglected in our methods of teaching. 
The object of teachers seems to have been to fill the memory with 
the facts and truths of a subject, rather than to develop the power 
by which these truths were obtained. They have failed to de- 
velop the power of original thought and investigation. Even in 
teaching thought-studies, the memory has been brought into 
activity more than the understanding. The mind has too often 
been regarded as a capacity to be filled, rather than an activity to 
be developed. Teachers have aimed to put knowledge into the 
mind, as we pour water into a vessel, or shovel coal into a coal- 
bin ; while the power that originates knowledge, that works up 
ideas and thoughts into laws and principles, has been neglected. 
One reason why the so-called "self-educated men" often show 
more thought-power than those who have been trained in our 
schools, is that, following the bent of their own minds, they have 
developed the power of original thought. 

III. Time for Culture.— The culture of the understanding 
should begin early in life. While perception and memory seem 
to be more active in youth, the understanding is also active at an 
early age. The inquiry after the causes of facts and phenomena, 
and the drawing of conclusions from experience, indicate an early 
activity of these powers of thought. The faculty of judgment, by 
which comparisons are made, is active from the earliest dawn of 



THE CULTUKE OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 277 

consciousness; and the power of reasoning also awakens very- 
early. Young persons should therefore be taught so as to give 
activity to the powers of thought. 

Adapted to the Age. — This culture should be carefully 
adapted to the age and development of the pupils. Children 
should be taught to compare objects, to inquire for causes, and to 
see the relation of things to one another. Inductive reasoning 
should precede deductive ; causes should be presented before laws 
and principles ; and deductive thought and the generalizations of 
science should be introduced as the mind becomes prepared for 
them. 

IV. Divisions for Discussion. — The discussion of the culture 
of the understanding is conveniently presented under the follow- 
ing general heads : the Culture of Generalization and Classifica- 
tion, the Culture of the Judgment, and the Culture of Reasoning. 
For the Culture of Abstraction but little can be directly done by 
the teacher ; and we shall therefore give no formal discussion of 
it, but merely make a few suggestions in the closing paragraph 
of the present chapter. 

V. Culture of Abstraction. — The power of Abstraction 
operates spontaneously at a very early age. The mind soon 
learns to draw qualities away from the objects in which they are 
perceived, and to regard them as distinct objects of thought. 
There is but little need of special exercises to cultivate this 
power. A few lessons to lead pupils to abstract the various 
qualities from objects might be given. A careful drill on the 
qualities as expressed in objects will be sufficient to give the 
power of conceiving them independently of objects. Care should 
be taken, however, not to keep the mind on the concrete too 
long. To hold the mind down to tangible objects when it is pre- 
pared for abstract thought, would be to enfeeble its powers and 
dwarf its growth. Something can be done also by the teacher 
to cultivate a taste for abstract thought; and such culture is 
highly recommended. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE CULTURE OF GENERALIZATION. 

(^ ENERALIZATION, or Conception, is a spontaneous activity 
-* of the mind, and in its simpler and ordinary forms de- 
velops naturally with the growth oi' the other faculties. Some- 
thing- may be done by the teacher, however, to lead the student 
to general ideas and the use of general terms. Special lessons 
may be given to lead the minds of children from the particular 
to the general, from percepts to concepts. Individual objects 
may be presented to the senses, and the mind be gradually led to 
the formation of general notions embracing these objects. 

In Different Studies. — This culture may be given in several 
of the school-room studies. In geography, individual rivers may 
be grouped together into river-systems, particular mountains into 
mountain-chains, etc. In teaching definitions, which are usually 
the description of general notions, the pupil may be led from 
particular examples to the general idea : indeed, a clear and 
definite idea of the general notion is only possible as we have 
distinct and definite ideas of particulars. In teaching gram- 
mar, lessous should be given on particular words as the names of 
objects, from which the pupil can be led to the general definition 
of a noun as the name of an object: and the same method should 
be pursued with the other parts of speech. Studies presented in 
this manner will aid the mind in developing the power of gen- 
eralization. 

More Direct Culture. — Besides this general culture of con- 
ception afforded incidentally by experience and the studies of the 
school, there are some special exercises that may be employed for 
this culture. These exercises may be included under three gen- 

(378) 



THE CULTURE OF GENERALIZATION. 279 

era! heads; Logical Analysis, Logical Division, and Logical Defi- 
nition. 

I. By Logical Analysis. — By Logical Analysis is meant the 
examination and minute observation of the concept and the attri- 
butes which it embraces. It aids us in attaining to the several 
qualities of conception ; namely, clearness, distinctness, and 
adequacy. A few remarks on the formation of conceptions and 
the use of logical analysis will be appropriate. 

Form Real Notions. — We should be careful to form actual 
and definite general notions, and not be satisfied merely with 
general terms. The general notion must be preserved by a word ; 
but there is a tendency to use words without a definite conception 
of their meaning. We often suppose we have in our minds the 
ideas of things, when we really have only a word which we use 
vaguely and blindly. Many of our general terms are mere 
hollow forms, without any content of meaning. What we need is 
to fill the mould with ideas, so that it will be no longer an empty 
form, but a solid content. This reality of conceptions may be ob- 
tained by a careful and exhaustive analysis of our general notions. 

Form, Clear Conceptions.— We should aim, first of all, to 
give the quality of clearness to our conceptions. The tendency is 
to use terms without their creating in the mind the ideas for 
which they stand. General terms are often used like the 
algebraic symbols, which stand for quantities without our think- 
ing of any particular quantity until the result is obtained. In 
using such words as virtue, liberty, religion, church, etc., we often 
do not think of what is contained in them ; but pass them on as 
a banker hands out bills, without thinking of the gold and silver 
they stand for, or the articles they would purchase. AVe can 
avoid the evil consequences of this habit by frequently referring 
to these words, and allowing them to awaken the full conception 
for which they are the symbols. Special efforts to analyze con- 
cepts into their marks are also necessary for the reality and clear- 
ness of our conceptions. 

Form Distinct Conceptions. — There should be special pains: 



280 MENTAL SC1EXCE. 

taken to cultivate distinctness of conception. By distinctness of 
conception, as previously explained, is meant the cognition of the 
marks or attributes of a concept. The tendency is to rest satisfied 
with merely clearness of conception, and we thus fail to attain 
distinctness in our general notions. This error is seen even in 
our perceptions ; how many of us can point out the marks of the 
handwriting which we could identify under oath, or even de- 
scribe the face of a friend with whom we are familiar ? In the 
cognition of our conceptions we are still more liable to indistinct- 
ness; indistinct perceptions lead to the habit of indistinct con- 
ceptions. We can correct this error by increasing the distinct- 
ness of our perceptions. Our conceptions will also become dis- 
tinct by a careful analysis of their marks, and a comparison with 
other concepts ; and special efforts should be made for the attain- 
ment of this quality. 

Form Adequate Conceptions. — We should also aim to make 
our conceptions adequate. That is, we should endeavor not only 
to know the marks of our conceptions, but also to know the 
marks of the marks. Adequacy refers also to the number and 
relative importance of the marks. A cancept may be perfectly 
clear and distinct, and still be a very inadequate representation of 
the class of things for which it stands, as it may connote but two 
or three of the many attributes, and those of trifling importance. 
Thus we may have a clear and distinct concept of man as " a two- 
legged animal without feathers," but it is inadequate, as it omits 
the crowning mark of rationality. Concepts may be made ade- 
quate by a careful analysis of their marks, and a comparison of 
them with other marks or attributes. Accurate perception will 
also aid us in this work, as the concrete is the basis of the abstract 
and general. The examination of the meaning of words in the 
dictionary, tracing the definition of the terms employed in any 
given definition, will also be found a useful exercise in attaining 
to the attribute of adequacy. 

Use of Notative Conceptions. — We may enlarge or deepen 
the significance of concepts by reaching their marks through the 



THE CULTURE OF GENERALIZATION. 281 

notative meaning of terms. To most persons, all terms are merely 
symbolical, suggesting none of the attributes of the concept. 
Thus, such words as education, faculty, philosophy, oligarchy, etc., 
are to most minds merely symbolical ; while to the scholar who 
understands their origin, they suggest certain leading marks of 
the concept for which they stand. A careful attention to the 
structure of words will often suggest some of the marks of the 
concept. The study of the ancient languages or of etymology is 
found valuable in this respect. Thus, a knowledge of the ety- 
mology of such words as perception, conception, abstraction, re- 
ligion, synthesis, analysis, etc., will immediately suggest to the 
mind the marks of the concepts for which they stand. It must 
be remembered, however, that the etymology of the Avord will 
not always give a correct notion of the marks of the concept, on 
account of changes in the meaning of the term since its intro- 
duction into the language; as, lunacy, heathen, subtraction, etc. 

Increase the Meaning of Concepts. — We can thus increase 
the meaning of our concepts by study and experience. General 
terms have not the same significance to different minds ; they are 
much richer in meaning to some minds than to others. The 
term home, for instance, has but little significance to one who has 
never experienced its influence; but to those who have enjoyed 
its blessings, it is filled with the rich experience of a mother's 
love, or father's care, and a thousand hallowed memories. A 
large experience thus deepens and broadens the significance of 
our general terms. Some authors seem to load their words with 
a marvellous fullness and richness of meaning, resulting from 
profound study and reflection. They have, as it were, poured 
into the verbal form a richness and beauty from their souls, that 
seem to irradiate their words with a light almost divine. By 
study and reflection we can increase and enrich the meaning of 
our own words, add force and influence to our expression, and 
beautify and strengthen our mother tongue. 

II. By Logical Division. — The careful logical division of 
concepts aids in giving clearness and distinctness to our con- 



282 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ceptions. A distinct view of the subordinate conceptions con- 
tained in any given concept widens and deepens our idea of that 
concept. As Atwater well remarks, "The thorough logical 
division of any subject, thus defining the sphere and the objects 
it includes, greatly assists the clear, thorough, and facile dis- 
cussion of it. It also aids invention. The most sterile mind will 
find something to say on a subject well mapped out. Indeed, so 
to map it out, is to say something important." The logical 
division of our concepts will thus aid us in gaining clear con- 
ceptions of them, and also give breadth and depth to our general 
notions. 

littles for Logical Division. — In making these logical 
divisions, the student must be careful to observe the following 
rules : 

Rule I. — In logical division there should be but one principle 
of division. Thus it would be incorrect to divide mankind into 
Europeans, Americans, Pagans, and Christians, since the first 
division is according to locality and the second according to re- 
ligion. So also it would be wrong to divide the books of a 
library into poetry, history, Latin, French, morocco, and cloth. 
The violation of this rule leads to what is called " cross-divisions," 
in which the same object would be embraced under two or more 
classes. Unobserved cross -divisions are a fruitful source of per- 
plexity and confusion, and care should be taken to avoid them. 

Rule II. — In logical division the members should exclude one 
another. This rule flows from the previous one; and a violation 
of the former leads to a violation of the latter. Thus to divide 
lines into straight, curved, circular, and elliptical, or ideas into 
particular, general, abstract, and concrete, would violate this 
rule, as some of the divisions are included in others. The 
preacher who proposed to prove a certain doctrine by reason, 
revelation, and St. Paul, fell into this error, forgetting that reve- 
lation included the testimony of Paul. A violation of this rule 
offends the careful thinker, and confuses the minds of those who 
may not notice the error. Carelessness in this resoect reminds 



THE CULTURE OF GENERALIZATION. 283 

one of the Chinese, who are said to divide the race into first 
Chinese, then men, and then women. 

Rule III. — In logical division, the division should be complete. 
That is, it should include all the species; or, in other words, the 
sum of the species should be exactly equal to the genus divided. 
This rule is violated by leaving out any of the parts of a genus, as 
when we divide actions into good and bad, and omit those which 
are indifferent. So also when a subdivision is coordinated with a 
division; as to divide bipeds into men and robins, rather than 
into men and birds. The rule is also violated by dividing a 
member too far; as to divide polygons into triangles, quadrilat- 
erals, parallelograms, squares, etc. The parts named should be 
of the same rank with one another, and the sum of all should 
exactly equal the concept divided. 

Rule IV. — Logical division should proceed from proximate 
genera to proximate species. There should be no leaping from 
one rank to a remote rank in the series of higher and lower con- 
ceptions, but a stepping from one to the next lower. Thus to 
divide animals into horses, robins, salmon, etc., without previously 
dividing them into mammals, birds, and fishes, would be a viola- 
tion of this rule. We should become utterly confused in botany 
if we were to begin to arrange the vegetable kingdom under 
roses, lilies, oaks, and lichens. Naturalists have a regular 
system of classification so that they can pass step by step from the 
highest class to the lowest. Thus in Botany the vegetable king- 
dom is divided into the Phaenogamia and Cryptogamia, which 
are divided and subdivided until we come to the lowest species. 
In Zoology the animal kingdom is divided into four great 
branches, — Vertebrates, Articulates, Mollusks, and Radiates; 
from which we proceed* by successive divisions to species and 
individuals. These divisions are the type of that logical ac- 
curacy with which we should endeavor to divide any subject 
which we may be discussing. 

Us" of These Males. — These rules are a necessity to scientific 
thought, and are invaluable to all clear thinking. To those who 



284 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

desire to attain to clearness and distinctness of conceptions, prac- 
tice in logical division is indispensable. The writing of logical 
outlines in the different studies is of great value in the cultivation 
of the power to make clear distinctions and obtain a logical grasp 
of any subject. 

III. By Logical Definition. — Exercises in logical defi- 
nition are also valuable in unfolding our conceptions. Logical 
definition, including both the genus and the specific difference, 
gives clearness, definiteness, and adequacy to our conceptions. It 
separates a conception from all other conceptions by fixing upon 
and presenting the essential and distinctive property or properties 
of the conception defined. The value of exercises in logical 
definition is thus readily apparent. The distinct explication of 
the marks of concepts is of fundamental importance in accurate 
thought and discourse, and this is given in logical definition. 

Rules for Logical Definition. — In logical definition, the 
following rules are to be observed : 

Rule I. — A logical definition should unfold the essence of the 
notion defined. That is, it should be by genus and differentia. 
The concept defined should first be put into the next higher class 
and then distinguished from other species of that class. Thus in 
defining man, we must first say he is an animal, and then dis- 
tinguish him from other animals by the attribute of rationality, 
saying, " Man is a rational animal." 

Should be Essential Attributes. — The definition must embrace 
essential and not accidental attributes ; and to discover these re- 
quires rigid analysis and careful discrimination. The statement 
of differences that are not essential will give a definition that may 
be logical in form but worthless in thought. The old Platonic 
definition, "Man is a two-legged animal without feathers," was 
easily shown by Diogenes to be worthless by presenting a plucked 
chicken as Plato's man. The uneducated man often sees only 
the accidental attributes; the disciplined mind seeks for the dis- 
tinguishing marks, and is not satisfied until it has found them. 
Such a habit leads to definite and adequate notions of our gen- 
eral ideas. 



THE CULTURE OF OEXERALIZATIOX. 285 

Rule II. — A logical definition should be adequate. That is, 
it should have precisely the same extension as the thing defined. 
If the definition includes more than the notion defined, it is too 
broad ; if it includes less, it is too narrow. Thus, the definition, 
"Man is an animal," is too broad; while the definition, "A poly- 
gon is a triangle," is too narrow. So " Grammar is the science 
of language," is too broad ; and " A triangle is a figure having 
three rectilinear sides," is too narrow. The test of an adequate 
definition is that it may be simply converted ; thus, " A man is a 
rational animal," becomes, when converted, " A rational animal 
is man." An inadequate definition will not admit of simple 
conversion. 

Rule III. — A logical definition should be by affirmatives and 
not by negatives. That is, it should not state what a concept is 
not, but what it is ; for it does not give us a notion of what a 
thing is by stating what it is not. To define man as not an angel 
or not a brute, does not give us either a distinct or a clear idea 
of man. The definition of parallel lines as "lines which do not 
meet," or of a straight line as " one that does not change its direc- 
tion," is not satisfactory to the clear thinker. Negative words 
are, however, found in the language, and are sometimes useful in 
expressing shades of thought, and require a negative definition; 
as, unholy, insincere, etc. 

Rule IV. — A logical definition should be perspicuous. That 
is, it should not be expressed in vague, ambiguous, or senseless 
language. Care should be taken not to employ figurative ex- 
pressions in definitions. " Tropes and figures," says Krug, " are 
logical hieroglyphics ; they do not indicate the thing itself, but 
only something similar." Thus to say, " Truth is the grand scope 
of all existence," or " Logic is the light-house of the understand- 
ing," or " The Divine nature is a circle whose centre is everywhere 
and circumference nowhere," may do as rhetorical expressions, 
but have no value as definitions. 

Rule V. — A logical definition should not be tautological. That 
is, it should not contain the name of the thing to be defined. 



286 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Neither must we use a derivative or synonym or correlative of the 
term, which cannot be explained except through the term to be 
defined. Thus, such definitions as "Life is the vital force," or 
"Law is a lawful command," are of no value; for the definition 
uses the very word we wish to define. This fault is called defin- 
ing in a circle, since such a definition returns upon itself. Thus, 
when we define light as "that which illuminates," and "that 
which illuminates" as light, we are defining in a circle. The 
error is one to be carefully guarded against, as we are liable to 
fall into it unawares. We can hardly ridicule the boy who said 
" ratio is proportion," and then " proportion is ratio," when we 
remember that lexicographers have defined a plank as "a thick 
board " and a board as a " thin plank." 

Rule VI. — A logical definition should be precise. That is, it 
should be free from surplus attributes or words. Thus, to define 
a triangle as " a polygon with three sides and three angles " is 
incorrect, as either the "three angles" or the "three sides" are 
superfluous in the definition. So also to say that a parallelogram 
is "a quadrilateral having its opposite sides parallel and equal" 
though it is true, is not only superfluous but misleading, since it 
implies that there could be such a figure without having its 
opposite sides equal. 

Conclusion. — By careful attention to these rules of logical 
definition and logical division, and an application of them to the 
subjects we are studying, combined with a frequent logical 
analysis of our general notions, we can attain to a clear and dis- 
tinct use of general terms, and cultivate the power of conception 
to a full and comprehensive activity. 

The Culture of Classification. 

Classification is the application of the power of generalization. 
As found in the sciences, classification maybe defined as scientific 
generalization. This power of classification should receive careful 
attention in the education of the young. A few remarks will be 
made on the subject under the two heads; Importance of Classi- 
fication and Methods of Cultivating this Power. 



THE CULTURE OF GENERALIZATION. 287! 

I. Importance of Classification. — The power of classifica- 
tion is of great value to mankind in every department of life, and 
in every occupation and profession. To impress the importance 
of its culture we shall notice briefly its value in common life, in 
study, and in science. 

. In Common Life. — Classification is of value in the common 
affairs of life. It gives system to man's actions, and is thus an 
economy of labor and time. The mechanic who has a place for 
everything and everything in its place, will do more work in a 
day than one who is deficient in system. The farmer who sys- 
tematizes his work will raise better crops and receive a larger 
return from them, than one who takes things loose and easy. 
The merchant who has a methodical arrangement of his goods, or 
the business man who keeps his papers properly classified, will 
expedite business and accomplish more than the man who lacks' 
system. Even the good housewife knows the importance of hav- 
ing her duties properly systematized, if she would dispatch her 
work and relieve herself somewhat from its annoyances. 

To the Student. — The power of classification is invaluable 
to the student. A careful classification of any branch of study 
will give one a clearer view of the subject, and enable him more 
easily to retain it. Historical events, to be easily remembered, 
must be arranged in proper order, or grouped around some lend- 
ing central events on which they depend. The study of history 
by historical epochs, gives a view of events in their relations 
which makes it much easier to carry them in the memory. The 
same is true, to a greater or less extent, in every branch of study. 
A text-book properly classified will give one a much clearer idea 
of the subject than one which lacks this system. The easy dis- 
cussion of any question is dependent on the same law of classifi- 
cation. The speaker must have his subject arranged under ap- 
propriate headings if he wishes to recall the different points 
readily, and discuss them in their proper order. 

Value in Science. — The power of classification is of especial 
value in science. Science has been defined as systematized knowl- 



288 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ed^e; there can be no science without classification. In both 
the inductive and the deductive sciences, there must be an 
orderly arrangement of the subject-matter ; while in one branch 
of the former, that of Natural History, classification is the leading 
feature. Thus the science of Botany consists of the arrangement 
of plants into species, genera, orders, etc., and the same is true 
in Zoology and Mineralogy. These sciences assume that the 
objects of the three kingdoms were created after great pattern 
ideas, differentiated all the way down from the broadest classes to 
the species and individuals ; and the object of these sciences is to 
find these ideas and classify accordingly. In order to become a 
naturalist, therefore, we must have the power of classification well 
developed. 

II. Methods of Culture. — Admitting the importance of the 
power of classification, the question arises, how may this power be 
cultivated? In answer to this question, a few suggestions for its 
culture will now be presented. 

Classify Objects. — To train the powers of classification of 
young pupils, they may have lessons in the classification of 
objects. The arrangement of color-cards under the heads of the 
different primary colors, or the arrangement of tints under the 
common color of which they are varieties, is an excellent exercise 
for young people. We may also give them a number of pebbles, 
and require them to class them in respect to size, also in respect 
to color, also in respect to form, etc. We may also give them a 
collection of flowers, and require them to arrange them into 
classes with respect to color, the forms of the leaves, the forms of 
the petals, the number of stamens, etc. A large number of such 
exercises may be arranged with profit to young learners. 

Classify Studies. — Pupils may be required to classify the 
subject-matter of their different studies. In geography a geo- 
graphical outline may be given, and the pupils be required to 
collate their knowledge from different sources, and recite it under 
the different headings. In history the facts may be grouped to- 
gether into periods and epochs, and learned and recited in such 



THE CULTURE OF GENERALIZATION. 289 

connection. A similar method may be employed in several of 
the branches of school study. A habit of thus arranging knowl- 
edge will be found almost invaluable in general reading; and 
such practice gives culture to the power of classification. 

Write Outline*. — Pupils should be required to write outlines 
of the studies they are pursuing. Such outlines may be either 
logical or topical ; some branches, as mathematics and grammar, 
will admit of logical outlines; others, such as geography and 
history, of only topical outlines. The lesson of each recitation 
may be outlined on paper or on the blackboard ; and occasionally 
several previous lessons may be included in the daily outline. It 
will often be best to let the pupil outline the subject for himself; 
and then, after he has the benefit of this exercise, the teacher may 
present a more complete or logical outline for the pupils to copy 
and use. In some subjects, the recitation may be conducted in 
accordance with a carefully prepared outline of the subject pre- 
viously presented to the pupils. In completing a study, the pupil 
should be able to give a general outline of the entire subject. 
Such a drill will train the pupil to systematic habits of thought 
and study, and give the power of a comprehensive grasp of sub- 
jects. 

Study Classificatory Sciences. — The study of the elassifica- 
tory sciences is best adapted to give culture to the power of 
classification. The classificatory studies are the several branches 
of Natural History; Botany, Zoology, and Mineralogy. The 
main object of these sciences is to arrange objects into species, 
genera, orders, etc.; and they afford the best examples of logical 
classification. Indeed, they may be said to exhibit the per- 
fection of classification; no other science, except mathematics, 
can approach them in the beauty and exactness of their general- 
izations. The study of the sciences gives a continual drill in 
systematic classification ; and trains the mind to habits of vigorous 
and systematic thought. 

Study the Principles of Classification. — The student should 
he required to notice and study the principles of classification in 
13 



200 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

these sciences. There should be an intelligent grasp of the 
relations expressed in these classifications. The student of botany 
should not only know in what class a flower is fou>id, but he 
should also see why it is found there. He should see the relation 
of the different classes to one another, and to the higher classes 
of which they are coordinate parts. In other words, he should 
not only understand the science itself, but also the philosophy of 
the science. He should grasp the law by which it is developed, 
and see how he might himself develop the science if all knowl- 
edge of it were lost. Such a training, though usually neglected 
in teaching the sciences, is regarded as of vast importance in se- 
curing the proper culture from their study. 

The Beauty of Classification. — Efforts should be made to 
lerd the pupil to appreciate the beauty of the scientific classifica- 
tion of natural history. Some of these divisions and relations 
manifest a wide comprehension of facts and a grand generalization 
of thought Cuvier's division of the animal kingdom into the 
four great departments, Agassiz's law of classifying the fishes in 
respect to the form of their scales, and the similar grasp of essen- 
tial similarities and differences exhibited in the vegetable king- 
dom, fill the mind with wonder and admiration of both the laws 
involved and the minds that discovered them. The pupil who is 
led to appreciate these things will study them with a new interest, 
and obtain a discipline that can not otherwise be given. 

Classification of the Sciences. — The advanced student may 
be led to study the problem of the classification of the sciences. 
This is an old problem, and has engaged the attention of the 
great thinkers of nearly every age. Among those who have at- 
tempted to solve it we may mention Bacon, Locke, D'Alembert, 
and Comte. Though no one has given a classification entirely 
satisfactory to the scientific world, many of those presented are 
ingenious and show a wide grasp of principles ; and their exami- 
nation will be of real value to the student. An attempt to solve 
the problem for himself, will also be of interest and afford culture 
to the power of classification. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE CULTURE OF THE JUDGMENT. 

THE Judgment demands attention in this work of mental 
culture. The power of Judgment operates spontaneously in 
every mind, though in different degrees ; but much can be done 
to stimulate it to activity, and to direct and increase its power. 
We shall present a few thoughts on the subject under the two 
heads, — Importance of its Culture, and Methods of Culture. 

I. Importance of the Judgment. — The power of judgment is 
of great value to man in respect to the activities of the mind and 
its products. It is involved in or accompanies every act of the 
intellect, and thus lies at the foundation of all intellectual ac- 
tivity. It operates directly in every act of the understanding; 
and even aids the other faculties of the mind in completing their 
activities and products. Its relation to each one of the faculties 
will be briefly noticed. 

Value to Perception. — Judgment aids the faculty of per- 
ception. The first step or act of perception is the discrimination 
of sensations ; and discrimination is a work of judgment. The 
cognition of the organism and the external object also involve 
distinctions requiring the action of this faculty. In forming our 
perceptions of objects, we distinguish the different qualities given 
by the sense or by different senses, and these qualities we unite to 
form our complex notion of the object. The distinction between 
the egb and the non-ego also involves an act of judgment, for to 
distinguish is to compare or judge. 

Value to Memory. — Judgment is also of great value to the 
memory. The memory operates by the laws of association. As- 
sociation implies comparison ; we must compare in order to asso- 

(291) 



292 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ciate. We could not know things as similar or in contrast, or as 
contiguous in time and place, unless there was an act of judgment 
to perceive these relations. Judgment thus aids the mind in re- 
membering ; other things being equal, the clearer our perceptions, 
of the relation of objects of thought, the better will they be re- 
membered. The culture of the judgment thus directly affects the 
power of the memory. 

Basis of Thought. — Judgment, as has already been seen, lies 
at the basis of all thinking. All thought-knowledge involves an 
act of the judgment. Even in abstraction, there is a comparison 
of the elements in order that we may distinguish the quality 
which we abstract. A concept is formed by uniting common at- 
tributes ; and there must be a comparison in order to discover 
these common attributes. Each premise of a syllogism is a judg- 
ment; and the derived proposition is also in the form of a judg- 
ment. Every act of the understanding, therefore, involves the 
element of comparison, or an act of judgment ; and we may thus 
say that the judgment lies at the basis of all thought-knowledge. 

Basis of Science.— ^Judgment lies at the basis of all the 
sciences. The materials of the sciences are given by perception 
and intuition : perception gives us ideas and facts, and intuition 
ideas and intuitive truths. Both the facts of perception and the 
axioms of intuition are expressed as propositions ; and a propo- 
sition is a judgment expressed. These sciences are developed by 
generalization and reasoning; and judgment is involved in both 
generalization and reasoning. Every principle or law of science 
is stated in the form of a judgment. The activity of judgment is 
thus concerned in the foundation of the sciences, and runs through 
the entire superstructure. No scientific thought would be possible 
without the faculty of judgment. 

Basis of Poetry. — Judgment is also the basis of poetry. 
Every poetical figure involves an act of comparison. The simile, 
" As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman," in- 
volves a direct judgment; and the metaphor, "Your voiceless 
lips, O flowers, are living preachers," is an assumed one. So in 



THE CULTURE OF THE JUDGMENT. 293 

personification, there is a perception of relations, or we could not 
ascribe the attributes of one thing to another. In a selection like 
the following, the element of comparison may be seen running 
like a golden thread through every line : 

"The bridegroom sea 

Is toying with the shore, his wedded bride, 
And, in the fullness of his marriage joy, 
He decorates her tawny brow with shells, 
Retires a space, to see how fair she looks, 
Then proud runs up to kiss her." 

And so all through imaginative literature, the principle of 
comparison gives it its life and spirit, and imparts those attributes 
of beauty that touch the imagination and thrill the heart. 

II. Methods of Cultivating the Judgment. — The judg- 
ment, like every other faculty, acts spontaneously, and is de- 
veloped naturally by its own activity. Still it will admit of some 
special training ; and a few suggestions are presented in respect 
to such culture. These suggestions apply especially to the cul- 
ture of the judgment of young pupils. 

Exercises in Comparison. — Special lessons may be given to 
children in comparing objects. They may have exercises in 
comparing objects in respect to size, color, weight, etc. They 
may also be required to compare their ideas and form propo- 
sitions ; the construction of sentences about objects is an exercise 
of judgment. Some of the most practical exercises, however, are 
the comparison of the forms, colors, lengths, surfaces, volumes, 
and weights of objects. 

Compare Forms. — Among the earliest lessons for children 
are those on geometrical forms. They should first have distinct 
ideas of the standard forms ; and then be required to compare the 
forms of objects with these standard forms. Thus after obtaining 
the idea of a triangle, circle, ellipse, cylinder, etc., they may be 
led to see that some objects are triangular, circular, cylindrical, 
elliptical, etc. They should be taught the typical forms of leaves, 
and then be required to name the forms of leaves presented to 
them. 



294 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Compare Colors. — Lessons should be given to young pupils 
in the comparison of colors. Ideas of the standard colors should 
be presented, and pupils should then be required to judge of the 
color of objects presented to them. For such an exercise, small 
color cards may be used ; Avorsteds, silks, etc., are also prepared 
for such lessons. A drill of this kind will enable a pupil to dis- 
tinguish a large number of shades and varieties of color with 
great accuracy, — a knowledge which may be of practical value in 
many of the vocations of life. 

Compare Lengths. — The judgment may be trained by the 
comparison of the length of objects. After giving an idea of the 
different units of length, these may be applied in judging of the 
lengths of different objects. Thus pupils may be required to tell 
the length and breadth of a room in feet, the height of the ceiling, 
the height of a man or a horse or a tree, the distance in yards or 
rods between two places, etc. They should also be given the 
units of surface, the square inch, square foot, square yard, etc., 
and be required to judge of the area of floors, the number of 
square yards in the walls of a room, the number of acres in a 
field, etc. The same may be done in respect to the measures of 
volume. 

Compare Weights. — The judgment can be cultivated by the 
comparison of weights. We should first give an idea of the 
standard weights, ounce, pound, etc. Then the student should be 
required to "heft" some object, as a book, and give its weight in 
ounces, or some larger object, as a chair, and give its weight in 
pounds. There should also be an exercise in learning to judge 
of the weight of objects by sight. With practice one can learn to 
judge within a few pounds of the weight of a personor an animal. 
A drover will approximate very closely to the weight of a horse 
or an ox by looking at it. 

Study of Mathematics. — One of the best exercises for the 
culture of the judgment is the study of mathematics. In mathe- 
matical reasoning, every step involves a comjmrison; and the 
solution of a problem or demonstration of a theorem is thus a 



THE CULTURE OF THE JUDGMENT. 295 

constant exercise to the judgment. Mental arithmetic is espe- 
cially useful in this respect to the youthful mind. Its relations 
are precise and definite, and each step in the process follows so 
naturally from the previous step or some fixed relation, that it is 
a constant pleasure to the student, and gives delightful as well as 
useful exercise to the judgment. Geometry also, with the classic 
precision of its relations, gives a classic finish to the acts of judg- 
ment. 

Compare for Literary Figures. — Pupils should have exer- 
cises also in comparing for literary figures. They should be re- 
quired to construct original similes, metaphors, personifications, 
etc. In order to do this, they should notice the poetical figures 
of literature, and try to imitate them. It will be well to have 
them study and imitate such figures as Horace Smith's 

"Your voiceless lips, O flowers, are living preachers, 
Each cup a pulpit, and each leaf a book," 
or Shakespeare's oft-quoted lines, 

"But, look, the Morn, in russet mantle clad, 
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill," 

or Longfellow's expressive figure, 

"The tidal wave of deeper souls 
Into our inmost being rolls." 

The pupil who sees the analogies in these similes, metaphors, 
and personifications, can begin to create original figures for him- 
self, and thus cultivate both his judgment and his taste for literary 
composition. 

Games of Skill. — There are certain games of skill that are 
useful in cultivating the power of judgment. One of the best of 
these, for young persons, is that of draughts, or checkers. I have 
noticed a real growth in mental power by children who became 
interested in this game. For older minds, chess affords a de- 
lightful and most valuable exercise for the judgment. The 
solving of riddles, the guessing of conundrums, etc., also give 
pleasant and profitable exercise to the judgment of young people. 
Indeed, such exercises will do much more for the development 



296 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

of thought-power than much of the dull, dry, rote-teaching of our 
schools has done. 

The Habit of Judgment. — It should be one of the leading 
objects of the culture of young people to lead them to acquire a 
habit of forming judgments. They should not only be led to see 
things, but to have opinions about things. They should be trained 
to see things in their relations, and to put these relations into 
definite propositions. Their ideas of objects should be worked 
up into thoughts concerning the objects. Those methods of 
teaching are best which tend to excite a thoughtful habit of mind 
that notices the similitudes and diversities of objects, and en- 
deavors to read the thoughts which they embody and of which 
they are the symbols. 

An Exercise in Opposition. — The application of the rules 
of Opposition of Judgments in deriving judgments from given 
judgments, is a valuable exercise to this faculty. Thus : 

1. Illustrate the law of universals and particulars with the judg- 
ments, "All men are mortal," "Some men are angels." 

2. Illustrate contraries with "All robins are birds," etc. 

3. Illustrate subcontraries with "Some men are poets," etc. 

4. Illustrate contradictories with "All men are bipeds," etc. 
Another Exercise in Opposition. — The following is an in- 
teresting and practical exercise in the opposition of judgments : 

1. If "All A is B" is true ; show what follows for E, I, and O. 

2. If "All A is B " is false ; show what follows for E, I, and 0. 

3. If "No A is B " is true ; show what follows for A, I, and O. 

4. If "No A is B " is false ;. show what follows for A, I, and O. 

5. If "Some A is B " is true ; show what follows for A, E, and O. 

6. If " Some A is B " is false ; show what follows for A, E, and O. 

7. If " Some A is not B " is true ; show what follows for A, E, and I. 

8. If " Some A is not B " is false ; show what follows for A, E, and I. 
An Exercise in Conversion. — The following is an interest- 
ing and practical exercise in the Conversion of Judgments : 

1. All men are rational. 5. Some men are virtuous. 

2. Some men are poets. 6. No brute is responsible. 

3. No men are quadrupeds. 7. Some men are not responsible. 

4. Some minerals are stones. 8. All triangles are polygons. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE CULTURE OF REASONING. 

REASONING is the last and the highest operation of the 
Understanding. There are two distinct forms of reasoning ; 
Deductive Reasoning and Inductive Reasoning. Each of these 
two forms of reasoning may be cultivated by appropriate exercise. 
We shall therefore discuss the culture of reasoning under the two 
distinct heads ; the Culture of Deductive Reasoning, and the Cul- 
ture of Inductive Reasoning. 

1. The Culture of Deductive Reasoning. 

Deductive Reasoning, as already defined, is the process of de- 
riving a particular truth from a general truth. It is a form of 
mental activity which operates early in the mind of the child; 
and is to be trained by appropriate exercises. Many of the 
branches of the school course are especially adapted to give exer- 
cise and culture to this power. The teacher should understand 
the relation of these studies to the mind, that he may give this 
culture consciously and intelligently. Some of the exercises and 
studies particularly suited to the culture of deductive reasoning, 
will therefore be mentioned. 

1. Study of Mathematics. — The study, par excellence, for the 
culture of deductive reasoning, is mathematics. The several 
branches of mathematics present the purest examples of deductive 
reasoning ; they are therefore pre-eminently fitted to give training 
to the power of deductive thought. They are also adapted to 
every stage of intellectual development, since they range from the 
simplest processes of mental arithmetic to the profoundest gen- 
eralizations of calculus. The pupil should, at an early age, begin 
13* (297) 



298 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

the simple analyses of arithmetic; from this he should pass to the 
more concise and abstract reasoning of algebra, which, in its first 
steps, is similar to the reasoning of arithmetic. Following the 
elements of algebra, or in connection with it, he should take up 
the science of geometry, in which he will become acquainted with 
-- -Jthe more formal methods of syllogistic reasoning. 

Mental Aritlimctic. — Mental arithmetic is especially adapted 
to give culture to the reasoning power of the young mind. By 
mental arithmetic, we mean not the mere working of problems 
without slate or pencil, but that system of arithmetical analysis 
which is found developed in a good work on the subject. Mental 
arithmetic is a system of practical logic in its simplest form; 
every step is a judgment direct or indirect, and the entire subject 
is permeated with the spirit of logic. Its processes are purely 
analytic, and it thus trains the mind to the most rigid analysis. 
Every truth is bound to some other truth by the thread of related 
thought; and the mind of the pupil acquires the habit of follow- 
ing a chain of logicaily-connected judgments until it reaches a 
satisfactory conclusion. To give exercise to the reasoning powers 
of the child, mental arithmetic may be placed at the head of the 
list of studies of the primary school. 

Sharpens the Mind. — Mental arithmetic sharpens and strength- 
ens the powers of thought. The system of rigid analysis gives 
point and penetrating power to the mind, and enables it to frierce 
a subject to its core and discover its elements. In this respect, 
mental arithmetic is a sort of mental whetstone, which gives edge 
and keenness to the mind. Old Robert Recorde called his work 
on arithmetic the " Whetstone of Witte ;" had he lived until the 
era of mental arithmetic, he would have seen the full meaning of 
his words, for the method of analysis found in mental arithmetic 
is indeed a whetstone of wit, a sharpener of the mental faculties. 
Mental arithmetic is a system of mental gymnastics; through it 
the mind grows strong and tough, taking hold of difficulties with 
a will, laughing at obstacles, and rejoicing in the investigation of 
the intricate and profound. 



THE CULTURE OF REASONING. 299 

Study of Written Arithmetic. — The study of written arith- 
metic leads the mind to a higher plane of deductive thought. 
While the reasoning in mental arithmetic is purely analytic, the 
reasoning of written arithmetic is more synthetic and demon- 
strative in its nature. Thus many subjects which in mental 
arithmetic are treated by pure analysis, in written arithmetic are 
treated by demonstration. In mental arithmetic we treat all the 
various cases of Fractions by analysis ; while in written arithmetic 
we may first establish a few general principles, and then derive 
all the rules for the several cases by deduction from these prin- 
ciples. Many subjects in written arithmetic are purely deductive 
and demonstrative in their nature, as Proportion, Progression, 
Evolution, etc. The study of written arithmetic thus lifts the 
mind up into a higher plane of deductive thought, and gives a 
culture adapted to the advancing maturity of the mind. When 
properly taught, not as a collection of rules for arbitrary results, 
but as a system of logical processes, it affords the mind a delight- 
ful and valuable exercise in deductive thought. 

Study of Algebra. — Algebra is also a valuable study in train- 
ing the power of deductive reasoning. In its elementary ideas 
and processes, it has its origin in arithmetic, and flows out of it; 
and its spirit and methods are essentially deductive. Its methods 
of calculation are analytic and demonstrative ; and it rises into 
the sphere of generalization, which gives a breadth and reach of 
mind that we cannot acquire in arithmetic. This spirit of gen- 
eralization lies at the basis of the science, and has given us the 
profound thinkers in astronomy and physics, such as Newton and 
La Place. The interpretation of these general formulas, as ap- 
plied to particular cases, so valuable in the investigations of the 
physical sciences, is also an excellent exercise for the development 
of the thought-powers of the student. 

Study of Geometry. — In giving discipline to the power of 
reasoning, geometry has been placed high in the list of thought 
studies. Geometry is purely a deductive science. It begins 
with definite ideas expressed in strictly logical definitions, has its 



300 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

fundamental truths or axioms given by intuition, and with these 
as a basis, proceeds by the logic of deduction to derive all the 
other truths of the science. It is regarded as the most perfect 
model of a deductive science, and is the type and model of all 
science. 

Invaluable Discipline. — As a study for the discipline of the 
power of thought, geometry is invaluable. It is the perfection 
of logic, and excels in training the mind to logical habits of 
thinking. In this respect it is superior to the study of logic 
itself, for it is logic embodied in the science of tangible form. 
While logic makes us familiar with the principles of reasoning, 
geometry trains the mind to the habit of reasoning. No study is 
better adapted to make close and accurate thinkers. Euclid has 
done more to develop the logical faculty of the world than any 
book ever written. It has been the inspiring influence of scien- 
tific thought for ages, and is one of the corner-stones of modern 
civilization. 

A Ted of Power. — Geometry not only gives mental power, but 
is a test of mental power. The boy who cannot readily master 
his geometry will never attain to much in the domain of thought. 
He may have a fine poetic sense that will make a. writer or an 
orator ; but he can never reach any eminence in scientific thought 
or philosophic opinion. All the great geniuses in the realm of 
science, as far as known, had fine mathematical abilities. So 
valuable is geometry as a discipline that many lawyers and 
preachers review their geometry every year in order to keep the 
mind drilled to logical habits of thinking. 

Subjects for Original Thought. — In these branches of 
mathematics, the student should have problems and theorems for 
original thought. Problems for solution are usually given in 
arithmetic and algebra; in geometry, however, the practice has 
been to present only theorems demonstrated in the text-book, but 
no undemonstrated theorems to train the student to reason inde- 
pendently of the text-book. This is regarded as a serious defect 
in the methods of teaching geometry. There should be a large 



THE CULTURE OF REASONING. 301 

number of theorems for original thought; and the student should 
be required to discover the demonstrations for himself. In this 
way he may be able not onlv, as Cvril said of the girl-students, to 
" hunt old trails," but also " to invent " processes of reasoning for 
himself. He will become an original thinker in the domain of 
quantity, and acquire that acuteness of insight and independence 
of thought that characterize the profound thinker. 

II. Study op Language. — The study of language is adapted 
to give culture to the power of thought. This is apparent from 
the fact that language is the expression of thought. Language 
is the mirror of the mind; in it are revealed the processes of 
thought ; and looking in this mirror, the mind may become 
familiar with its own workings and imitate the methods which it 
perceives. Besides this, the ordinary methods of teaching lan- 
guage are largely deductive in their character, and the mind is 
thus trained to deductive processes in its study. The value of a 
few of the branches in this respect will be briefly noticed. 

Study of Grammar. — The study of grammar, if properly 
presented as a thought-study, and not as a thing to cram into the 
memory, affords a valuable exercise in deductive thinking. 
With the young pupil, the principles should be reached induc- 
tively ; but having attained these principles, the study is mainly 
deductive in its character. The application of the rules and 
principles to actual expression is a process of deduction. The 
correction of false syntax is purely deductive in its character; we 
reason from the principle to the special case that we are correct- 
ing. So with parsing and analysis; they are purely deductive 
processes, and are valuable in training the mind to reason from 
general principles to particulars. They are valuable as means 
of culture also from the fact that they can be so constantly used, 
affording a daily drill in practical forms of logical thought and 
expression. Many of the distinctions of grammar, also, are re- 
hned and subtle, requiring a searching analysis and a philosophic 
insight into the subject, which cannot fail to afford a most admir- 
able discipline. For the culture of the power of deductive 



802 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

reasoning, we should therefore give high rank to the study of 
grammar, a rank next to arithmetic on the list of the common 
school branches. 

Study of Rhetoric. — The study of rhetoric is also adapted to 
give culture to the faculty of deductive thought. Many of the 
principles of rhetoric, including the laws of taste, are the result 
of intuition ; and their application to the criticism and coir- 
struction of discourse, is a deductive exercise. In the application 
of the principles that may have been reached by induction, the 
mind of the student passes from the general principle to partic- 
ulars, and is thus proceeding deductively. The process of in- 
vention, which most writers include in the subject of rhetoric, 
gives direct exercise to this power; for the evolution of thought 
on any subject, usually proceeds from generals to particulars, 
rather than in the opposite direction. In the unfolding of any 
subject, we usually think in the light of general principles and 
intuitions of the higher reason. Though we may discover induc- 
tively, we present our discoveries in the reverse order of their 
origin ; and the invention of discourse is usually a movement 
of thought from generals to particulars. 

Study of Latin and Greek. — Even the study of Latin and 
Greek, though it may not be generally acknowledged, is valuable 
for the training of the mind in deductive processes. The rules 
of construction are fixed in the memory as general principles, and 
the language is interpreted in the light of these principles. The 
general forms for number, case, and tense are learned, and then 
applied to the particular words of the text in determining their 
relation and dependence. Besides, the nice sense of discrimination 
cultivated by the comparison and selection of words in making 
the translation, not only exercises the judgment, but exercises it 
uzider the control of general principles of taste; and the process 
is thus closely related to deductive reasoning. The study, too, 
cultivates those habits of accuracy and definiteness that are so 
valuable in mental discipline, and which the deductive sciences 
are especially adapted to afford. 



THE CULTURE OF REASONING. 303 

III. Study of the Metaphysical Sciences. — The power of 
deductive thought receives some of its highest culture from the 
study of those branches which may be called the metaphysical 
sciences. These branches are Psychology, Logic, Ethics, iEs- 
thetics, Political Economy, International Law, Natural and Re- 
vealed Theology, etc. These sciences deal with principles and 
their application, and are thus deductive in their character. 
They discuss the profoundest questions of human thought and 
human life, and lift the mind into that plane of truth by which 
its survey is broad and comprehensive, and from which it can 
look down with intelligence upon the facts that have their source 
in and flow from these principles. 

Study of Psychology- — Among the first in the list for the 
culture of this higher thought, we place Psychology, the science 
of the human mind. Though some of its principles seem to be 
derived by a generalization of particulars, yet in its spirit and 
methods it is deductive. It trains the mind to habits of reflective 
thought, and enables it to grasp abstract and general principles. 
It cultivates that nice sense of discrimination so necessary to 
scientific investigation, and gives the power of penetrative and 
philosophic insight. It trains the mind to seize upon the recon- 
dite and elusive objects of thought and feeling, and to trace its 
way along those spiritual paths that lead to the deeper mysteries 
of nature. By it we not only reach truths, but we go on to 
search for the source and beginning of truth ; and, grasping fun- 
damental principles, we are enabled to follow them to their grand- 
est conclusions. 

In the study of the human mind we reach the type of the 
Divine mind, and thus rise from the study of the natural to that 
of the spiritual. Here we attain the grand conceptions of Space, 
Time, Cause, and Identity, and those grander conceptions, the 
True, the Beautiful, and the Good. Here we meet with the 
grandest facts and problems of the human soul, — the moral 
nature, the freedom of the will, and human accountability ; and 
from these we naturally rise to the contemplation of Immortality, 
God, and Heaven. 



304 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Study of Logic. — The study of Logic will aid in the develop- 
ment of the power of deductive reasoning. It dues this first by- 
showing the method by which we reason. To know how we 
reason, to see the laws which govern the reasoning process, to 
analyze the syllogism and see its conformity to the laws of 
thought, is not only an exercise of reasoning, but gives that knowl- 
edge of the process that will be both a stimulus and a guide to 
thought. No one can trace the principles and processes of 
thought without, receiving thereby an impetus to thought. In 
the second place, the study of logic is probably even more val- 
uable because it gives practice in deductive thinking. This, per- 
haps, is its principal value, since the mind reasons instinctively 
without knowing how it reasons. One can think without the 
knowledge of the science of thinking, just as one can use lan- 
guage correctly without a knowledge of grammar; yet as the 
study of grammar improves one's speech, so the study of logic 
cannot but improve one's thought. , 

Application of Logic. — The application of the principles of logic 
to practical exercises affords an excellent means of training the 
power of thought. These exercises may consist of pointing out the 
principles in processes of reasoning, and also of correcting errors 
in the forms of reasoning. The former is like parsing and analysis 
in grammar; the latter is like the correction of false syntax: ami 
as these exercises in grammar cultivate the power of using correct 
language, so will the corresponding exercises in logic train the 
mind to accurate habits of thought. We recommend, therefore, 
extensive practice in what is called "logical praxis," or the ap- 
plication of the laws and principles of the science to thought as 
expressed in language. 

Correction of Fallacies. — This practice in the correction of errors 
of reasoning will be found of especial value in the culture of this 
faculty. It should embrace the correction of the forms of reason- 
ing, and the pointing out of the fallacies in arguments. It should 
also include the detection of such errors as lie in the matter of 
reasoning; as, begging the question, reasoning in a circle, etc. A 



THE CULTURE OF REASONING. 305 

drill in the analysis of arguments for the detection and correction 
of such errors will make the mind familiar with the correct pro- 
8, and teach it to be careful to avoid those errors into which 
even practiced thinkers are liable to fall. 

Heading Argumentative Discourses. — The reading of ar- 
gumentative discourses is also recommended for this culture. 
Such discourses usually deal with general principles and their 
application, and are thus deductive in their nature. They are, 
too, the productions of the great thinkers; and the mind will 
learn to think by following the trains of thought of these superior 
minds. The reading of such productions as Calhoun's discourses 
on government, Webster's defense of the Constitution, Mill on 
the principles of civil government, Woolsey on international law, 
etc., will give breadth and philosophical grasp to the mind and 
lift it up to the plane of high and commanding mental activity. 
To commune with the great thinkers is to have our minds il-. 
lumined by the light of those rare souls whose thoughts mould 
their own and coming ages. 

Heading Philosophy. — The careful reading of philosophy 
will be found valuable in this thought-culture. How r ever the 
philosophers may have reached their principles, their presenta- 
tions of truth are mainly deductive in spirit and in form. They 
think and speak in the light of fundamental principles; and fill- 
ing the soul with grand conceptions of truth, they inspire lis to 
make our deductions from such principles. The lofty discussions 
of Plato, the keen analysis of Aristotle, the transcendental phil- 
osophy of the German thinkers, and the practical speculations of 
the thinkers of England, — all lift the soul into an atmosphere of 
pure thought from which it may draw inspiration for its own 
speculations. 

Reading "Philosophic Essayists. — The philosophic essayists, 
also, like Carlyle and Emerson, though not, properly speaking, 
philosophers, are full of suggestive thought. They are like the 
seers of old, rare prophetic souls who have* an insight into truths. 
They seem to catch glimpses of the new stars of truth that are to 



306 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

shine in the heavens before they are revealed to the common 
mind; and they give to our minds some of the afflatus of their 
own spirits. They have a wonderful power to stimulate to think- 
ing. Emerson, for instance, not only gives you thoughts, but 
sets the mind to thinking for itself; he, as it were, inoculates the 
mind with his thought so that it breaks out into thoughts of its 
own. 

By Deductive Thinking. — Besides the culture afforded by 
study and reading, the power of deductive thought is cultivated 
by deductive thinking. The application of general principles to 
the facts and business of life is an exercise of deductive thought ; 
and such a consideration of practical questions trains to habits of 
deductive reasoning. All men, in every avocation and profession, 
are continually reasoning from general rules or maxims, and are 
thus exercising and cultivating the power of deductive thinking. 

IV. Avoid Fallacies. — In order to improve in deductive 
thinking, care should be taken to avoid those errors in reasoning 
known as fallacies. The principal fallacies of deduction may be 
embraced under two classes; first, those of an unwarranted as- 
sumption of 'premises, and second, those of an irrelevant conclusion. 
The principal fallacy of the first class is that known as Begging 
the Question ; the principal one of the second class is Arguing to 
the Wrong Point. The former includes Reasoning- in a Circle; 
the latter includes a variety of forms, such as Shifting Ground, 
Asking Questions, Part Proof Argumentum ad Populum, etc. 

Begging the Question. — The fallacy of Begging the Question, 
called petitio principii, consists in the unwarrantable assumption 
of the thing. to be proved, or the assumption of that by which it 
is to be proved, without proving it. Thus to assume without 
proof that a protective tariff will be of advantage to the country, 
or to argue that protection will promote public wealth without 
showing it, is to beg the question. So to assume that the Bible is 
divine without proving it, or to argue that it is worthy of belief 
because it is inspired, without proving its inspiration, is a fallacy 
of this kind. The usual form of this fallacy, and the most de- 
ceptive, "is that of reasoning in a circle. 



THE CULTURE OF REASONING. 307 

Measoning in a Circle. — The fallacy of Reasoning in a Circle, 
called argumentum in circulo, is one in Avhich the conclusion is 
virtually used in order to prove the premise. Thus, to argue 
that a party is good because it advocates good measures, and 
that certain measures are good because they are advocated by so 
excellent a party, is to reason in a circle. So when persons argue 
that their church is the true one, because it was established by 
God, and then argue that since it is the true church, it must 
have been founded by God, they fall into this fallacy. To argue 
that " the will is determined by the strongest motive " and define 
the strongest motive as that which influences the will, is to re- 
volve in a circle of thought and prove nothing. Plato commits 
this error when he argues the immortality of the soul from its 
simplicity, and afterwards attempts to prove its simplicity from 
its immortality. It needs care to avoid this error, for it is sur- 
prising how easily one falls into it. 

Fallacy of Shifting Ground. — This fallacy consists in pre- 
tending to prove one thing, and in really proving or deciding 
upon another merely associated with it. Thus it is a common de- 
fence of criminals to allege that they were insane, and to attempt 
to prove this by showing that they acted very unreasonably. So 
to try to convince a jury that a man is guilty of a certain crime 
by dwelling upon the enormity of the offence, is also a fallacy of 
this class. Bacon is charged with treachery to his friend the Earl 
of Essex ; and the writer dwells powerfully upon the evil of in- 
gratitude in a great man, instead of proving the alleged facts. 

Fallacy of Questions. — The fallacy of Questions consists in 
asking two or more closely related questions, applying the answer 
of one to the other. This is a low trick sometimes employed by 
lawyers in the examination of witnesses, with the view of puzzling 
them or turning their answers to a wrong account. Thus, "You 
were swayed by the love of money in the transaction ? " (meaning 
exclusively), to which the witness answers "Yes" (meaning in 
part). Another question follows: "In being swayed by money 
you acted selfishly in the transaction ? " The utilitarian puts to 



308 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

us the questions: "You deny that virtue consists in utility?" 
" Yes." " Then you deny that utility is a good thing." A ques- 
tion is often double, so that either a " yes " or a " no " will lead 
to a fallacious inference ; in which case the fallacy will be 
avoided by answering each part separately. 

Fallacy of Part Proof. — The fallacy of proving part of the 
question often misleads the judgment of men. Thus, if a man is 
charged with murder, it is a fallacy to attempt to prove the charge 
by merely showing that he killed a man. So also it is a fallacy 
to conclude that a man is a liar because he is proved to have made 
a misstatement, which may have been entirely unintentional. 

Argumentum ad Poptilum. — The argumentum ad populum 
is that in which there is an appeal to public opinion, or to passion 
and prejudice rather than to reason. It does not prove anything, 
but may lead the judgment or actions of the people, and is there- 
fore a fallacy. Such an argument is not improper when the con- 
clusion arrived at is believed to be a correct one ; but it is illegiti- 
mate when the conclusion is wrong in itself, or when he who urges 
it does so hypocritically. Considered as an argument, it is always 
a fallacy, and should be used with great care and an upright con- 
science. 

Argumentum ad Verecundiam. — The argumentum ad vere- 
cundiam consists in an appeal to the feeling of reverence for cer- 
tain persons or objects, as to antiquity, the opinions of ancestors, 
etc., instead of proving the point at issue. Thus the scholastics 
employed the maxim, " It is foolish to affirm that- Aristotle 
erred ;" and in the same manner the conservative argues against 
any improvement in society or the state by referring to the opin- 
ions of the fathers of the republic. The argument may be used 
to prevent any rash disturbance of the social order ; but it is in 
every case a fallacy. 

Argumentum, ad Ignorantiam. — The argument called ad 
ignorantiam is addressed to the ignorance of men. It consists in 
assuming that a certain position is correct, because an adversary 
cannot show the contrary. Thus some would have us believe in 



THE CULTURE OF REASONING. 309 

animal magnetism or spiritualism, because we cannot explain their 
phenomena. To argue that there is no material world because 
we cannot explain how the mind knows it to exist, is the cele- 
brated fallacy of Hume in philosophy. The fact that we cannot 
find a needle in a haystack is no proof that it is not there. 

Argiimentum ad Hominem. — The argument called ad 
hominem is an appeal to the practice, principles, or professions of 
an opponent to confirm our position or to overthrow his. This 
argument is good against an opponent, and may silence him ; but 
it may not be good against the views which he advocates. As soon 
as he renounces such opinions or practices, the argument ceases 
to be of value against him. Christ often used this method to 
silence the cavils of the Jews, as in Matt. xxii. 41-45. This fal- 
lacy is especially objectionable when we take advantage of 
premises which those with whom we argue allow, but which we 
ourselves do not believe. It is legitimate only when we wish to 
make our opponents doubt their premises by seeing the conse- 
quences to which they lead, or to silence an unreasonable and 
cavilling adversary. 

In Conclusion.— In conclusion we remark that care to avoid 
these fallacies, combined with the reading of works of philosophy, 
the study of the metaphysical sciences, the study of logic and the 
deductive sciences, the proper study of mathematics and language, 
and the practice of deductive thought, will train the mind to 
clear, broad, and comprehensive deductive reasoning. 

II. Culture of Inductive Reasoning. 
Inductive Reasoning is the process of deriving a general truth 
from particular truths. It is one of the earliest forms of thinking 
manifested by the young mind ; and is developed by appropriate 
exercise and training. This exercise and training may be given 
in four different ways ; by the inductive teaching of several of 
the elementary branches of study; by the formal study of the 
material sciences; by original investigations in these sciences; 
and by being careful to avoid the fallacies of induction. 



310 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

I. Inductive Method of Teaching. — The power of inductive 
reasoning may be cultivated by the inductive method of teaching 
several of the. elementary branches. The inductive method of 
teaching is that form of teaching which passes from particulars to 
generals. By it the pupil may be led from particular ideas to 
general ideas, or from particular truths to general truths. The 
former gives culture to generalization, which is in the spirit of in- 
ductive thought ; the latter requires inductive reasoning on the 
part of the pupil, which gives direct culture to inductive thinking. 
The principal of the school branches for the inductive method, 
are Object Lessons, Geography, Grammar, and Arithmetic. 

In Object Lessons. — Object Lessons deal with objects and 
their properties, and these constitute the foundation of the induc- 
tive sciences. A system of object lessons is especially adapted to 
train the power of observation, which lies at the basis of the de- 
velopment of the inductive sciences. An object lesson requires a 
pupil to analyze an object into its parts, to look at its details ; 
and thus leads him to acquire the habit of close, accurate, and 
"analytical perception. The pupil may also be led to classify 
objects, which is a stage of inductive science. He may also be 
led to inquire after the causes of certain facts and appearances of 
the objects, which is induction proper. A system of object 
lessons, in the hands of an intelligent teacher, may thus lead a 
pupil in the first steps of inductive thought and science. 

In TeacJiing Geography. — Geography is a natural science 
and is developed inductively; and when properly taught, gives 
exercise in inductive thought. In this branch, a pupil should 
first see particular examples of the different divisions of land and 
water, — continents, capes, peninsulas, islands, oceans, gulfs, bays, 
etc., — and from these be led up to the general notion of them 
and their definitions. So also the particular rivers and moun- 
tains should be first presented, and the pupil be led to unite them 
into river-systems and mountain-chains, thus proceeding from 
the particular to the general. So far as geography treats of 
causes and laws, they should follow the facts which depend upon 



THE CULTURE OF REASONING. 311 

them. Taught in this way, geography cultivates inductive think- 
ing; taught, however, by the ordinary method of definition and 
description, very little thought is awakened, and what there is, is 
in the spirit of deduction rather than induction. 

In Teaching Arithmetic. — Even arithmetic, which is a 
deductive science, may be so taught as to train the faculty of 
inductive thought. The earliest instruction in arithmetic should 
be presented concretely and inductively. The mind should pro- 
ceed from objects to numbers, from ideas of processes to their 
formal statement, from the analysis of particular examples to the 
general rules, from the use of a principle in some special case 
that gives rise to it, to its formal announcement in a general 
proposition. Thus the pupil may be made familiar with the pro- 
cess of uniting and separating numbers before he learns to call it 
addition and subtraction ; he may analyze special examples in 
the different cases of fractions, and then derive a rule from the 
steps of the analysis ; and this is inductive in its character. So, 
in common divisor, common multiple, evolution, etc., the prin- 
ciple may be first presented in the special case of a problem being 
solved, from which the mind may be led to its formal statement. 
Subsequently, the principles may be demonstrated by deductive 
processes, and the rules derived from general principles. 

In Teaching Algebra. — Some culture of inductive thought 
may be given, even in the study of algebra. We may pass from 
the particular solutions of arithmetic to the more general so- 
lutions with algebraic symbols. The transition from figures to 
letters, from numerical exponents to literal exponents, and the 
generalization of particular processes, are all in the spirit of in- 
ductive thought. Some of the methods of operation and general 
formulas may also be obtained by inductive methods of reasoning. 
Newton discovered his celebrated "binomial formula" by in- 
duction; he left no deductive demonstration of it and probably 
never discovered one. Fermat's formula for prime numbers, 
2 n -f 1, when m is a term in the series 1, 2, 4, 8, etc., which 
Euler showed is incorrect when m equals 32, was derived by in- 



312 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

duction. The method of "mathematical induction," often used 
in algebra, is more deductive in its nature than inductive, and 
does not afford culture to inductive reasoning ; and most of the 
reasoning of algebra trains to deductive rather than inductive 
thought. 

In Teaching Grammar. — Grammar is largely a deductive 
science, but its elements may be taught inductively ; and when 
thus taught, will give culture to inductive reasoning. Thus, we 
may first present individual examples of nouns, and then lead to 
the general idea of a noun and to its definition ; and so with all 
the parts of speech. So also we may lead the pupil to discover 
the properties of number, case, etc., from language, and to derive 
the rules of inflection from individual cases of inflection. The 
rules of syntax may also be first presented in special cases, and 
the mind be led to grasp the general from the particular. Such 
teaching is in the spirit of induction, and trains to inductive 
habits of thought. Other school studies may be presented in a 
like manner, and when so taught do something for the culture of 
iuductive reasoning. 

II. Several School Studies. — Besides the method of in- 
ductive teaching, there are several school studies that give special 
culture to inductive thought. These are the branches which be- 
long to the inductive sciences ; and if studied in accordance with 
their spirit, give direct culture to the power of inductive reason- 
ing. Among these branches are Physiology, Natural Philosophy, 
Astronomy, Chemistry, and Natural History. A few remarks 
on each of these studies will show their use in affording the cul- 
ture we are considering. 

Study of Physiology. — The science of physiology treats 
mainly of facts. There are few general principles reached, and 
the inquiry for causes is somewhat limited. The study of this 
branch trains the pupil to close observation ; he is taught to dis- 
sect, to observe, and to gather facts. This does not require in- 
ductive reasoning, but it is the first stage of the inductive sciences, 
and thus imparts somewhat of the spirit of these sciences. The 



THE CULTURE OF REASONING. 313 

functions of the different organs lie in the sphere of cause and 
effect, and when laws are reached, they are reached inductively; 
and the ascertaining of these laws and causes gives direct culture 
to inductive thought. 

Study of Natural 1'hilosophy. — Natural philosophy is one 
of the finest types of a purely inductive science, as geometry is of 
a deductive science. It treats of facts and phenomena, with their 
laws and causes. When studied according to its own genius, as 
it should be, it is one of the very best studies for the training of 
inductive thought. It requires the observation of facts and 
phenomena, and also experiment to ascertain facts not presented 
by things in their usual relations. From these the student 
passes to the inquiry after the causes of facts and phenomena, 
and the laws which control them. Thus, from the/aefe of falling 
bodies, it rises to the cause, attraction of gravitation, and from this 
to the law that the distances are proportional to the squares of the 
times. Studied in this manner, it gives admirable culture to in- 
ductive thought ; while taught, as it so often is, by the definitions 
and discussions of the text-book, it not only gives no culture to 
induction, but is almost useless as a matter of discipline. 

Study of Astronomy. — The science of astronomy is also in- 
ductive in its character. It begins with the facts and phenomena 
of the heavenly bodies, and proceeds to ascertain the causes 
which produce the various phenomena and the laws which govern 
them. The study should begin with the observation of the sun, 
moon, and stars themselves; or with the observation of the facts. 
From these the student should be led to the inquiry after the 
causes which produce these facts and phenomena, and the laws by 
which these causes operate. These causes are so recondite in 
their nature, and require such a breadth of thought, that the 
student cannot be led to them, but is obliged to accept them as 
already discovered. So also he must learn the laws as deter- 
mined by the great minds who have discovered them, rather than 
discover them himself. This is the deductive method rather than 
the inductive, and trains to deductive methods of thinking. Ba- 
li 



314 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

sides, mathematics enters very largely, almost entirely, into the 
development of these higher investigations, which makes the 
reasoning strictly deductive, and cultivates that form of reasoning. 

Study of Chemistry. — Chemistry is mainly a science of ex- 
periment, as physiology is of observation. The student is re- 
quired to become familiar with the different elements, their 
properties, their equivalents of combination, the results of such 
combination, the methods of analysis of compounds, the tests for 
and detection of substances, etc. There is but little theory A or 
investigation of causes or laws. Most of the theories are already 
prepared for us, and the student has only to learn them and 
attain skill in their application. The prominence of experiment 
in the study, and the necessity of drawing inferences from facts, 
however, render it an excellent study for the culture of the 
method of inductive investigation. 

Natural History. — The three branches of natural history, 
Botany, Zoology, and Mineralogy, treat mainly of facts and their 
classification. These train the mind to the close observation of 
facts and to generalizations from these facts, but not to inductive 
reasoning. Generalization, however, the passing from particular 
objects to general ideas, though not inductive reasoning, is in the 
spirit of induction; and the study of these branches is thus of 
value in the culture of inductive thought. Besides, there are a 
few general principles reached in these branches, and now and 
then an inquiry after a cause; and these afford a more direct 
culture of inductive thought. 

III. Inductive Thinking. — Besides the culture afforded by 
the inductive teaching of several of the school studies and the 
formal study of several of the inductive sciences, a course in in- 
ductive investigation is indispensable for the high culture of the 
power of inductive thought. In fact, more can be done for the 
culture of inductive reasoning outside of books than in connection 
with them, for books, as a rule, announce the results of induction 
rather than take the mind through the process of induction. 
This method can be applied to every department of nature and 



THE CULTURE OF REASOXIXG. 315 

society. The business man, as well as the professional man, the 
merchant, the doctor, the statesman, every one who wishes to 
reach the laws and causes which are operating in his own depart- 
ment of labor, may use this faculty in passing from facts to their 
causes and laws. 

Or'tler of Investigation. — For this investigation the several 
steps or stages are as follows : First, they must seek for facts and 
phenomena. These are to be gained by observation, experiment, 
and testimony. Second, they are to ascertain the causes of these 
facts and the laws which govern them. They will be aided in 
this by hypothesis and theory. These hypotheses are often reached 
by anticipation, and are carefully verified. A few remarks on 
each one of these subjects will make.a little clearer what is here 
meant. 

Inquiry for Facts. — Every man should be a good observer ; 
he should see what is going on around him ; he should be a fact- 
gatherer. He should observe the facts both of nature and human 
nature. He should notice what is going on in society, the 
changes in thought and institutions, the progress in art and in- 
vention, and the fluctuations in public sentiment and political 
parties. As a business man, he should observe the facts of trade, 
the growing demand for new articles of commerce, the relation 
of supply to demand of any one article, etc. As such he becomes 
a man of intelligence, and has the material with Avhich to form 
his inductive inferences; and this will enable him to make his 
life a practical success in the business and professional world. 

Eocjyeriinent for Facts. — Another method of gaining facts is 
that of experiment, which is practicable in many departments 
of life. If a man is engaged in farming or some similar avoca- 
tion, he can supplement his observation by experiments. He can 
cross his strawberries or grapes, try the effects of different soils 
on his apples or pears, experiment with different methods of feed- 
ing his cattle, test the efficiency of new fertilizers, etc. As a 
merchant, he can try the popularity of a new line of goods ; as a 
manufacturer, test some new article for the household, etc. In 



316 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

this way, he will not only gain valuable information, but give 
culture to the power which obtains material for inductive reason- 
ing. 

Inquire for Causes. — -The mind should accustom itself to 
the inquiry after the causes of things. Every fact and phe- 
nomenon is the result of some agency ; and the mind should acquire 
the habit of trying to see the cause which stands behind the tact 
and gives rise to it. We thus rise from facts into the domain of 
philosophy; and learn to previse and predict the future. The 
facts as caused become themselves the cause of other facts, and 
the man who can foresee and foretell their result, becomes a prac- 
tical prophet among his fellow-men. By this grasp of the future, 
fortunes are made, political success is assured, the tide of public 
thought is anticipated, and the possessor of this power raised to 
positions of honor and influence. The successful men of the day 
in business, are those who, with a broad grasp of cause and effect, 
could anticipate the coming events and be prepared to take ad- 
vantage of them. 

Use of Hypotheses. — In thus ascertaining the causes, it will 
often be necessary to use hypotheses. These hypotheses are not 
a combination of all the facts, but the mind leaps, by a kind of 
inspiration, from a few facts to the cause which explains or pro- 
duces them. To do this we need to cultivate a lively fancy, a 
quickness of suggestion, a philosophic foresight that catches a 
glimpse of the idea through the form, or sees the law or cause 
standing back of the fact. Care must be used to verify these 
flashes of fancy or bright suggestions. No hypothesis should be 
accepted as true until the facts are so numerous that there can 
be no doubt of its being proved. If facts are found that it will 
not account for, another supposition must be made, and so on, 
until one is obtained that will account for the facts. Remember 
WhewelFs maxim that " to try wrong guesses is with most persons 
the only way to hit upon right ones." 

IV. Care to Avoid Fallacies. — In these investigations, 
great care should be taken to avoid those illusive inferences 



THE CULTURE OF REASONING. 317 

called fallacies, into which men are liable to fall. The most im- 
portant of these are those relating to the ascertaining of the 
causes of facts. Mistakes are also made in obtaining the facts, 
which have been called fallacies of observation. A few remarks 
will be made on each of these two classes of fallacies, — -fallacies of ', 
observation and fallacies of inference. 

Fallacies of Observation. — We should be cautious, in obtaining 
our facts, to avoid the fallacies of observation. These are of 
several classes, the most important of which are the following: 
first, inexact observation, or the careless observation of facts; 
second, partial observation, or gaining an incomplete knowledge 
of facts ; third, the neglect of exceptions and contradictory facts ; 
fourth, the assumption of facts which are not facts; fifth, the mix- 
ing of illegitimate inferences with the facts. Special care should 
be taken to avoid all of these fallacies, as any mistake in observa- 
tion will vitiate the general conclusions Avhich we derive from 
them. 

Mistaking the Cause. — The fallacy of mistaking the cause, 
called non causa pro causa, is that in which something not a 
cause is assumed to be a cause. Thus Newton fell into this error 
when he explained the phenomena of light by the supposition of 
corpuscles. So the supposition that heat is a fluid, so long taught 
in natural philosophy, was a fallacy of this kind. There are 
several forms of this fallacy, the principal of which we shall 
mention. 

Antecedent for the Cause. — This fallacy, called post hoc, ergo 
propter hoc, consists in mistaking a mere antecedent for a cause. 
Thus, if we infer that because an eclipse of the moon is followed 
by a heavy rain, that the former is the cause of the latter, it will 
be a fallacy of mistaking the antecedent for the cause. In 
ancient times, people who noticed that a remarkable meteor in 
the sky was followed by some national calamity, or a conjunction 
of planets was followed by a royal marriage with far-reaching 
political consequences, superstitiously concluded that the events 
were related as cause and effect. So to infer, because a country 



318 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

flourished under one administration and suffered from a financial 
panic under another administration, that the administration was 
the cause of the result, is to be guilty of this fallacy. 

Taking the Sign for the Cause. — The fallacy of mistaking the 
sign for the cause is a common one with untrained thinkers. 
Tims a physician who, on seeing pimples on the face, attempts to 
remove them by an application, instead of endeavoring to remove 
the cause, falls into this error. A statesman, who contents him- 
self with punishing the crimes which proceed from ignorance, 
without trying to remove the moral causes from which crime 
springs, is guilty of this fallacy. Buckle falls into this error by 
tracing all progress in civilization to intellectual activity, for- 
getting that the intellectual activity of Europe was due to moral 
causes, and was thus only a sign or effect of the real cause. 

Fallacy of Analogy. — The fallacy of analogy, called non tale 
pro tali, consists in assuming a resemblance where there is no re- 
semblance. Thus to assume that because the wheat crop is 
unusually large, we shall have a fine corn crop ; or because the 
season is favorable to peaches, apples will be abundant, — is to 
fall into this error. The trite argument against Christianity,- 
that because all other religions are a delusion, Christianity must 
be a delusion, is a fallacy of this kind, which should not delude 
any one with ordinary reasoning powers. It is a fallacy also to 
carry an analogy too far ; as to infer from the parable of the 
praying of the importunate.woman that God resembles the unjust 
judge. 



INTUITION. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE NATURE OF INTUITION. 

INTUITION, or the Reason, is that power of the mind which 
gives us ideas and truths not furnished by the senses, nor 
elaborated by the understanding. Its products are called primary 
ideas and primary truths. The Primary Ideas are those of Space, 
Time, Cause, Identity, the True, the Beautiful, the Good, etc. 
The Primary Truths are all self-evident and necessary truths, as 
the axioms of mathematics and logic. 

Names of the Power. — This power is called Intuitive, be- 
cause the products spring up immediately in the mind upon the 
j)resentation of the proper occasion. The ideas are not the pro- 
ducts of sensation and perception, but arise in the mind on the 
occasion of sensible experience. Its truths are not derived by a 
process of reasoning, but arise spontaneously in the mind when 
the subjects to which they relate are contemplated. Hamilton 
calls it the Regulative Power, because it regulates and controls 
the activity of the other faculties. Dr. Hickok and some others, 
following the example of Kant, call it the Reason, a term not 
inappropriate, since it is the power or element of the mind which 
seems to stamp it with rationality. 

In WJuit Sense a Faculty. — The power of intuition is not to 
be regarded as a faculty, in the same sense as the other activities 
of the mind. It is not so much an activity as a spontaneity, for 
its products arise spontaneously in the mind on the proper occa- 
sion without any special effort or action. From this fact Ham- 



, 9 20 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ilton speaks of it as the complement of certain fundamental laws, 
though it is doubtful whether this characterizes it properly. It 
seems to correspond to what was known to the Greek philosophy 
as the nous (vov~), the intelligence. The Scotch philosophers have 
used the term common sense to name this power ; but this term is 
also objectionable. Kant called it the Reason, and this term has 
been quite largely adopted, though it is liable to become con- 
founded with reasoning. Several other terms have been sug- 
gested, but none seems more suitable than Intuition. 

Nature of the Faculty. — Intuition or the Reason is an intu- 
itive source of knowledge. It has an eye for truth which tran- 
scends the truths of sense and reasoning. Perception derives its 
ideas through the senses ; Intuition is the source of its own ideas. 
Reasoning obtains its conclusions from premises; Intuition ob- 
tains its truths from itself. It is thus a centre and source of 
knowing; a source and originator of knowledge. It also fur- 
nishes the laws by which each of the other faculties mature and 
complete their products ; perception, memory, and reasoning de- 
pend for their results on the Reason. Besides this, it looks 
around and through the operations of the other faculties of know- 
ing, and comprehends their activities and products. Moreover, 
it not only comprehends the activities of the other faculties, but 
comprehends its own activities and products. The faith in 
Reason is itself an intuition of the Reason. This statement of a 
true conception of the Reason will be more clearly seen as the 
subject is further discussed. 

I. Existence of This Faculty. — The existence of such a 
faculty, though it has been questioned, is apparent from an ex- 
amination of the source of its products. All of our ideas whose 
origin we have explained, are of three classes ; percepts, abstracts, 
and concepts. These ideas have their primary source in per- 
ception, — abstraction and generalization depending on perception 
for the materials out of which they form ideas. If now we find 
that we have ideas not given by either of these three faculties, it 
is reasonable to infer that there must be some other faculty as the 



THE NATURE OF INTUITION. 321 

source of these ideas. Let us notice the origin of our so-called 
Primary Ideas. 

Ideas not from Perception. — We remark first that these 
primary ideas are not given by perception. A percept has color 
or form, hardness or softness, or some one of the qualities of ma- 
terial things. A Primary Idea, as the idea of Space, has neither 
color, nor form, nor hardness, nor softness, nor any one of the 
qualities of matter ; hence it is not a percept, or the product of 
perception. -The same may be shown of Time, Cause, Identity, 
etc. Since they are not given by perception, they cannot be 
given by abstraction, since abstraction is the power of drawing a 
quality away from an object and making of it a distinct object 
of thought. If we do not perceive space, time, cause, etc., as 
qualities of bodies, we shall have no such ideas to draw away 
from objects. 

Not by Generalization. — These ideas are not concepts, the 
products of generalization. In forming a general idea, we first 
perceive the qualities of objects, then abstract the qualities which 
are common, and then unite these common attributes into a 
general notion. Now, if we have no perception of these intuitive 
ideas as qualities of objects, we cannot abstract and unite such 
qualities into general notions. Besides this, the general notion is 
always equal to the sum of the common qualities united; the 
general idea equals the sum of the particulars and can never 
transcend this sum. Now, if our idea of space were made up of 
all the particular spaces which we may have experienced, it could 
be no larger than the sum of these particulars. But in reality 
our idea of space infinitely transcends the sum of all possibly ex- 
perienced spaces. If we should put together all the spaces which 
we have seen occupied by matter, the result would fall far short 
of our idea of space. 

Not by Judgment or Reasoning. — These intuitive ideas 

cannot be given by judgment and reasoning, since their office is 

to give us truths and not ideas. In a similar manner, we coulrl 

show that none of these ideas — Time, Cause, Identity, the Beau- 

14* 



322 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

tiful, etc. — can be given by any of the faculties we have previously 
described. Hence there must be some other faculty which gives 
these ideas, and that faculty we call Intuition or the Reason. A 
similar argument can be given in respect to the origin of the 
intuitive truths. 

Existence Generally Admitted. — The existence of such a 
faculty is now generally admitted by philosophers. Nearly all 
the great thinkers acknowledge that it is impossible to resolve all 
our knowledge into the product of experience. It is largely ad- 
mitted that a certain complement of cognitions must be allowed 
as having their origin in the nature of the thinking principle it- 
self. In the analysis of knowledge, it is seen that the mind itself 
supplies some of the elements ; and there must be an attribute or 
faculty of the mind to supply them. There is a general agree- 
ment, also, as to the manner in which the ideas and truths of the 
faculty are formed. 

Existence Questioned. — There is a certain class of thinkers, 
however, of whom Hobbes is a representative, who deny the ex- 
istence of such a faculty. These thinkers endeavor to trace all 
of our ideas to sense as their ultimate source. Nearly all the 
thinkers known as scientists, belong to this school. Locke is 
claimed on both sides of the question. He states that all of our 
ideas arise from two sources, sensation and reflection; but he is 
not entirely clear in his explanation of the origin of those ideas 
which we call intuitive. It is thought by many, however, that 
he meant to teach that they are not derived from sense, but that 
they originate in the mind. 

II. Relation to Other Faculties. — Intuition is intimately 
related to all the faculties of the mind. It seems to overlie and 
condition the activities of all the other faculties. It furnishes 
the laws by which they operate, and often adds elements to their 
products necessary for their completeness. This relation to the 
Other faculties will be briefly pointed out. 

To Perception. — Through the senses the perceptive power at- 
tains the idea of qualities. These qualities are necessarily con- 



THE NATURE OF INTUITION. 323 

ceived as belonging to something which we call substance, and 
this conception is furnished, not by perception, but by intuition. 
The perception of bodies as extended involves the idea of space ; 
and this idea is furnished by the intuitive power. So in the per- 
ception of events ; they are conceived to be united by the thread 
of time, which is also an intuitive idea. The cognition of an ex- 
ternal world, as was explained under perception, involves an in- 
tuitive belief that resistance implies something which resists, — a 
truth furnished by intuition. 

To the Memory. — Memory is also aided by intuition in com- 
pleting its action. The memory, as previously explained, retains, 
recalls, represents, and recognizes. The element of recognition 
is an intuitive act, and is supposed to be due to intuition. It is 
not a result of comparison, for there is nothing with which to 
compare the representative object; and even if there were, some 
power would be needed to pronounce upon the result of the com- 
parison and recognize the similarity or identity. The act of 
recognition is immediate and intuitive, and is an act of the 
Reason. 

To the Imagination. — The imagination is also regulated in 
its action by the Reason. The products of this faculty are limited 
by the conditions of Space and Time, which are intuitive ideas. 
The principles of Beauty, after which the imagination forms its 
ideals, are also provided by the power of intuition. The ideals 
of beauty, those patterns of grace and excellence, that give shape 
to our imaginings, are largely due to this element of the mind. 
The highest flights of imagination are, as it were, inspired by 
and informed with a rational idea, which comes from this higher 
element of our rational nature. 

To the Judgment. — The operation of intuition may also be 
noticed in an act of judgment. Judgment compares two objects 
of thought, and, perceiving their agreement or disagreement, 
unites them in a proposition. The truth of a proposition, how- 
ever, is not seen by the judgment, but by a power higher than 
the judgment. The validity of a predication of one thing of 



324 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

another is perceived and tested by some power which gives the 
law of judgments. Even the ideas of similarity and difference 
are the products of intuition. The laws of derived judgments, as 
in the inferences of Opposition, are furnished by the reason. It 
is thus seen that intuition or reason regulates the acts of compar- 
ison in the exercise of the judgment. 

To Reasoning. — Intuition also regulates the activity of the 
reasoning power. It furnishes all the laws of inference, those 
fundamental principles which control the reasoning process. 
Thus the simplest form of reasoning, as " A = B, but B = C, 
hence A= C," depends on the axiomatic truth that "Things 
which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other; " and 
this axiom is an intuitive truth. So the principle of deduction 
that " What is true of the whole is true of the parts," is furnished 
the reasoning faculty by a faculty which does not reason, namely, 
intuition. The cognition of the conclusiveness of the result is 
also an act of that power of reason that stands above the faculty 
of reasoning. 

The Highest Faculty. — Intuition is thus the highest power 
of the mind ; it stands at the head of and gives dignity and excel- 
lence to all the faculties. It is the crowning attribute of the 
intellect, the keystone of the spiritual arch, the overarching 
dome of the temple of the mind. It is in intuition that man be- 
comes^ a rational and immortal being. Here arise the idea of 
duty, the cognition of obligation, and the belief in the infinite 
and absolute. Here faith has its origin ; here hope appears to 
illumine the mind ; and here glow those "primal duties" which 
"shine aloft like stars." As the blue sky arches over the earth 
dotted with golden stars, so arching over all the other faculties of 
the soul is the power of intuition, bright with the stars of faith in 
immortality, God, and heaven. Here appear those revelations 
of heavenly truth that have come to the world, trembling on the 
poet's lips or glowing in the seraphic fire of prophetic utterance. 
The revelation of divine truth in the Bible and by the Eternal 
Word, enter human consciousness through this overarching power 
of the Reason. 



THE NATURE OF INTUITION. 325 

III. The Products of Intuition. — The Products of the 
Intuitive power are Primary Ideas and Primary Truths. An 
Idea, as has already been stated, is a mental product, which when 
expressed in words, does not give a proposition. A Primary 
Idea is one that is not given by the senses nor derived from other 
ideas. Primary ideas are notions which lie back of and condition 
all other ideas. Such ideas are Space, Time, Cause, Identity, the 
True, the Beautiful, the Good, etc. 

Primary Truths. 

I. Nature of Primary Truths. — A truth is a true thought ; 
that is, it is a mental predication which is true. A Primary 
Truth is a truth which lies back of and conditions all other 
truths. It is the source of other truths ; from it other truths are 
derived ; while it is derived from and depends on no other truth. 
As examples of primary truths, we mention the axioms of mathe- 
matics and logic. Thus, " The whole is greater than any of its 
parts," and " Things that are equal to the same thing are equal to 
each other," are examples of primary truths. 

Relation to Primary Ideas. — Every primary truth involves 
at least one primary idea; as "All bodies must occupy space," 
and " Every event must have a cause." Here Space and Cause, 
in these two truths, are primary ideas. As to which precedes in 
its appearance in the mind, the idea or the truth, there seems to 
be some difference of opinion among philosophers. Some main- 
tain that the truth, as a law of thought, appears in consciousness, 
and that the idea is derived from the truth. This, however, is 
contrary to the usual order of the origin of ideas and thoughts ; 
and it seems more reasonable to suppose that the thought follows 
the idea. Thus it wou]d seem that we must first have the idea 
of a cause, before we can think the thought that "every event 
has a cause." 

II. Existence of Primary Truths. — There is a certain 
class of thinkers who deny the existence of primary truths; we 
shall, therefore, endeavor to show that the mind does actually 



326 ' MENTAL SCIENCE. 

possess these truths. Under the Understanding it was seen that 
truths are given by two faculties, — -judgment and reasoning. 
These are the only faculties considered previously to intuition, 
that give us truths. A judgment in the domain of sense is called 
a particular truth, as "Heat expands iron." From a synthesis of 
particular truths we reach, by induction, a general truth; as 
" Heat expands all metals." By deductive reasoning we reach a 
derived, or deductive truth ; as " The sum of the angles of a tri- 
angle equals two right angles." By a comparison of ideas formed 
by abstraction and generalization we may also obtain truths, as 
" Man is an animal." 

Truths Not Derived. — Now if we examine our knowledge 
further, we shall find some truths in the mind that are not judg- 
ments from sense, nor the comparison of abstracts or concepts, nor 
the result of either inductive or deductive reasoning. These 
truths lie back of and condition both judgment and reasoning, 
and thus control and regulate all thought. Take them away, 
and neither reasoning nor science is longer possible for want of a 
beginning or foundation. If we begin at some truth derived by 
reasoning and trace it backward towards its source, we shall at 
last arrive at a truth which depends on no other truth for its 
proof, but carries its evidence in itself. Such truths have some 
origin ; they are not given by reasoning, for they are the basis of 
reasoning ; they are not given by judgment in percepts, abstracts, 
or concepts, for they are independent of any of these notions. 
Such truths arise spontaneously in the mind ; they are the pro- 
ducts of the power of intuition. 

Existence Admitted. — The existence of these first truths is 
admitted by a large class of philosophers. They have been desig- 
nated, however, by quite a number of different appellations. 
Many writers, from Cicero downward, including Bacon, Des- 
cartes, Leibnitz, etc., called them instinctive beliefs. Kant and 
his disciples termed them a priori or transcendental principles, as 
they are prior to experience and transcend the knowledge fur- 
nished by the senses. Several of the Scotch writers have called 



THE NATURE OF INTUITION. 327 

them principles of common sense, though Stewart uses the expres- 
sion fundamental laws of human belief. 

III. Tests op Primary Truths. — Attempts have been made 
by different philosophers to determine certain criteria by which 
we may recognize primary truths and distinguish them from all 
other truths. The tests which are regarded as the most satis- 
factory are, — Self-evidence, Universality, Necessity, and Sim- 
plicity. 

Self-evidence. — The first test of a primary truth is that it is 
self-evident A primary truth does not admit of any proof; it 
carries its own evidence in itself. Thus the truth, " Things that 
are equal to the same thing are equal to each other," is seen to 
be true, by all who can comprehend it, as soon as it is uttered. 
When it is stated that " the moon revolves around the earth," we 
say, Yes, that may be so, but how do you know it is so ? If true, 
it is a truth which demands proof before it can be accepted. But 
no one asks or needs to ask for the proof of an intuitive truth. 
No proof is possible, and a thousand demonstrations, if they were 
possible, would add no force to our conviction of its certainty. 
Primary truths carry within themselves their own vouchers for 
our confidence and acceptance. 

Universality. — The "second test of a primary truth is that it 
is universal. By this is meant that it is active in the minds of 
all mankind. It may not always be so clearly developed as to 
be presented in a formal proposition, but it is instinctively present 
and controls their action. In reflective minds these truths are 
distinctly formulated ; and other minds immediately yield assent 
to them when they are enunciated and clearly grasped. There 
is a spontaneous conviction in the minds of all men of these 
truths. They operate practically in the minds of all, whether 
they are acknowledged formally or not. Nay more, even the 
skeptic, who may deny these principles in his philosophy, acts 
upon them in individual cases just as implicitly as the philosopher 
who admits them and defends them. 

Necessity. — A third test of primary truths is that they are 



828 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

necessary truths. They are not only true, but they must be true , 
it is impossible for them to be untrue. We cannot conceive 
them to be untrue without an absurdity. The opposite of them 
is false and cannot be true. Thus the truth, " Space is necessary 
for the existence of material things," is not only true, but it is 
necessarily true ; and the opposite, " Space is not necessary to the 
existence of matter," is false and nothing can make it true. We 
cannot conceive that Deity himself could make a primary truth 
untrue; that is, that he could make the sum of three and two 
equal to seven, or the " whole less than a part." 

Simplicity. — Another test of a primary truth is its simplicity. 
If a truth can be resolved into some more fundamental truth 
which contains it or from which it may be derived, it is not a 
primitive truth. Thus the truth that " The sum of the angles 
of a triangle equals two right angles," though it is a necessary 
truth, is not a primary truth, as it will admit of derivation. A 
truth to be primary must not only be necessary and universal, 
but it must also be a fundamental truth. This test is expressed 
by the term simplicity. To these several tests Hamilton adds 
that of Incomprehensibility, by which he means that we compre- 
hend that the thing is, but not how or ichy it is. 

IV. Eemarks on Primary Truths. — No author has at- 
tempted to give a full list of primary truths; indeed such an 
enumeration would be very difficult if not impossible. They in- 
clude all the axioms of mathematics, of both number and form 
They include also all the self-evident truths of logic, as " The ex- 
tension and intension of concepts are inversely proportional ;" 
and the laws of inference, as " What belongs to the class belongs 
to each individual of the class." Other sciences also furnish ex- 
amples of self-evident, truths. 

Truths Arise from Ideas. — Each intuitive idea gives rise 
to a number of intuitive truths. For instance, from the idea of 
Space we may derive a number of intuitive truths or principles ; 
as, "All bodies occupy space," "All bodies are contained in 
space," "No body can exist without space," "Space is necessary 



THE NATURE OP 1 INTUITION'. 329 

to the existence of material things," " All motion is in space," 
" All motion is from one part of space to another," " A body in 
passing from one part of space to another, must pass through the 
whole intermediate space," etc. So also from the notion of Time 
arise several truths; as, "Every event must be in time," "Time 
is necessary to events," "The mind requires time for its exist- 
ence," etc. The idea of Identity gives .us such propositions as 
" A = A, " " A is not not-A, " " A thing cannot be and not be 
at the same time," " I am the same person I was yesterday," etc. 
So also we have the moral axioms, arising from the idea of the 
Right; as, "To tell the truth is right," "To utter falsehood is 
wrong," etc. 

These Truths not Contingent. — There are those who en- 
deavor to resolve these truths into contingent truths, the result of 
experience and generalization. To this attempt we reply that no 
observation of particular cases and generalization thereon, could 
have produced the irresistible belief we have in first truths. 
Each observation is contingent, and any number of observed con- 
tingencies will never impose upon us the feeling of necessity, — of 
an inability to think the opposite. We have always seen a stone 
fall to the ground when thrown in the air, but we find no diffi- 
culty in conceiving of the possibility of one or all stones gravitat- 
ing from the earth ; we cannot however conceive the possibility 
of this or any other event happening without a cause. Nor, as 
Hamilton remarks, can the necessity of so thinking be derived 
from a custom of so thinking ; for a custom^ however general, 
cannot give the stamp of necessity. 

Intuitive Truths Certain. — The doctrine here taught main- 
tains the absolute certainty of primary truths. It maintains that 
tbey are absolutely different from contingent truths, that they con- 
tain no element of uncertainty or contingency. An inductive 
truth may be true without a single exception ; but we can always 
imagine the possibility of an exception, and are always prepared 
to admit an exception if it be pointed out. With respect to a 
primary truth, not only do we expect no exception, but we hold 



380 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

that there can be no exception. From their very nature we know 
that no exceptions are possible ; and if it were announced that 
an exception had been discovered, we would not believe it, for we 
know that such a thing is impossible. Nay, to show the absolute 
character of the ground upon which we stand, it is held that 
Deity himself cannot make an exception to these truths, for they 
are as eternal as God himself. This is the broad and funda- 
mental distinction between the philosophy here taught and the 
materialistic, contingent, doubting philosophy, so called, of the 
modern school of scientists. 

V. Primary Ideas. — The Primary Ideas, as already stated, 
are Space, Time, Cause, Identity, the True, the Beautiful, and 
the Good, or the Right. These ideas may be embraced under 
three general classes ; the intuitive ideas of Science, the in- 
tuitive ideas of ^Esthetics, and the intuitive ideas of Ethics. The 
intuitive ideas of science are those of Space, Time, Cause, Identity, 
etc. ; the intuitive ideas of aesthetics are those of Beauty, Sublimity, 
and the Ludicrous ; the intuitive ideas of ethics are those of the 
Right, the Ought, and Merit or Demerit. Each of these three 
classes of ideas will be treated under separate chapters. Using 
the word true in a particular sense, the ideas of science may be 
called the intuitive ideas of the True. Using the term beautiful 
in its generic sense as including all sesthetic ideas, and we have 
the three classes of intuitive ideas, — the True, the Beautiful, and 
the Good. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE INTUITIONS OF THE TRUE. 

THE Ideas of Intuition, as previously stated, may be divided 
into three distinct classes ; the intuitions of the True, the in- 
tuitions of the Beautiful, and the intuitions of the Right. These 
three classes of ideas will be treated under three distinct chapters. 
The intuitions of the True embrace four great ideas ; Space, Time, 
Identity, and Cause. These may also be called the intuitive ideas 
of science. There are other ideas belonging to this general 
division ; but these are all that we shall discuss here. 

I. SPACE. 

Space may be denned as the condition of material existence. 
Every material body possesses the elements of extension, and ex- 
tension is possible only in space. No material things could exist 
without space ; and we can thus define space as the condition or 
postulate of material existence. 

Space an Idea. — Space, subjectively considered, is an idea of 
the mind. It has no form, nor color, nor any of the attributes 
of a percept; and yet it is a clearly denned notion, as distinct 
and definite as that of an object. We know what we mean by 
the word space, though we may not be able to define it satis- 
factorily. We have also a definite notion of the meaning of the 
proposition, "Space is necessary for the existence of objects." 
There is therefore a definite notion corresponding to the word 
Space. 

Origin of the Idea. — The idea of space is not a percept; it 
has neither color, form, hardness, nor any of the other attributes 
of a percept, and hence is not a product of perception. It is not 
an abstract, for it is not a notion of a quality drawn from an 

(331) 



332 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

object; hence it is not given by abstraction. It is not a concept, 
the combination of special spaces, for the idea of space infinitely 
transcends the sum of all experienced spaces. Space is therefore 
an intuition. It is an idea that springs up in the mind on the 
occasion of sensible experience. Though it is not an idea given 
by sense, sense furnishes the occasion for its development in the 
mind. From the fact that it springs up in the mind in con- 
nection with sensible experience, and yet is seen to be necessary 
to the objects of sensible experience, it has been said to be logi- 
cally prior to experience and chronologically subsequent to expe- 
rience. 

Not a Mere Idea. — Space is not a mere idea of the mind ; it 
exists independently of the mind. If there were no minds to 
conceive of space, space would still have existence. Were this 
not so, then if all minds should be blotted out of existence, there 
would be no space. Matter would still exist, worlds would still 
continue to move on as now, — but exist and move in what? Not 
in space, we reply, for that ceased to exist with the last mind, if 
space be an idea. The absurdity of the conclusion shows the in- 
correctness of the premise that space is a mere idea. Indeed, if 
we make space a mere idea, we shall make matter a mere idea 
also, a conclusion to which Hume and some other thinkers have 
come. 

Space a Reality. — Space, we therefore say, is more than a 
mere idea ; it is a reality. Matter exists, can exist only in some- 
thing, and that something — the condition of its existence — is 
space. Space, therefore, is a real existence. We may not be 
able to define it any better than the school-boy who said, " Space 
is a great, big, infinite nothing;" but we are sure of its reality. 
Even if there were no matter, there would be space. In that 
case, the idea might not occur to the mind; but space would 
exist just the same as it does at present. Even if all matter and 
mind should " be blotted out of being, space would still be what 
it is now." Nay more, so real is the existence. of space that we 
cannot conceive of any power by which it could be destroyed. 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE TRUE. 333 

Other Views. — Several distinct views have obtained in respect 
to the subject of space. Kant and his school make it a mere 
conception, a form which the mind imposes upon matter; having 
no external reality, but merely a subjective existence. Some 
writers " have resolved space and time into the qualities of the 
one infinite and absolute Being, the divine mind." Dr. Samuel 
Clarke regards space and time as attributes, properties, or modes 
of an eternal substance. Sir Isaac Newton seems to have held 
that the existence of God always and everywhere constitutes 
space and time. 

Elements of Space. — As an objective reality, space has several 
distinct elements. First, space is continuous; it cannot be broken 
into parts which can be separated from one another; it extends 
from one point to another, and is continuous in all directions. 
Second, space has three dimensions, length, breadth, and depth ; 
in other words, it is susceptible of these three measurements. 
Third, space is quantitative; it admits of definite measurement, 
and is estimated as the how much. Fourth, it gives rise to figures, 
and thus to the science of form, or geometry. Fifth, it is without 
limit in every direction, — in other words, it is infinite. 

II. TIME. 

Time may be defined as the condition of being regarded as in 
action or motion. It is the condition of the succession of events, 
as Space is the condition of the extension of matter. Time is that 
w r hich is required in order that something should take place, as 
Space is that which is necessary in order that something material 
should exist. In other w r ords, Time is' the condition of events as 
Space is the condition of forms. 

Relation to Space. — The relations of Time and Space are 
thus clearly seen. Extension occurs in space; succession occurs 
in time. As extension is possible only in space, so succession is 
possible only in time. Time is necessary to succession, as space 
is necessary to extension. Space is the place of material forms ; 
time 'is the place of successive events. Space gives us the question 



334 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

where; and time gives us the question when. As space is in- 
volved in and given along with extension, so time is involved in 
and given along with succession. 

Time an Idea.— Time, subjectively considered, is an idea. 
This idea is clear and definite ; we know what we mean by the 
Avord time, and by any proposition involving the word. Yet this 
idea has no fdrm, nor color, nor any of the elements of a percept. 
Neither is it like an abstract, a quality drawn from an object; 
nor like a concept, the aggregate of the common qualities of a 
class of objects. The mind forms no mental image of time, yet it 
has a distinct cognition of it which it discriminates from all other 
cognitions. 

Origin of Idea.— -The idea of time, as of space, is an intuition. 
It is an idea that springs up in the mind on the occasion of sen- 
sible experience. We see objects in motion ; motion involves a 
change of place ; change of place requires a succession of different 
places ; succession is involved in time, and is the occasion of the 
idea arising in the mind. The mind gives birth to the idea upon 
the presentation of succession as the occasion. So the succession 
of cognitions — the succession of different ideas, thoughts, and feel- 
ings, as different states of consciousness — -also furnishes the occa- 
sion for the development of the idea of time. Were there no 
experience of events as successive, there would be no idea of 
time; though the fact of time is necessary to this succession, since 
there could be no succession without time. In view of this re- 
lation, as Cousin remarks, time is said to be logically antecedent 
to experience, and chronologically subsequent to experience. 

Time a Reality.- — Time is not a mere idea of the mind ; it 
has an existence independently of the mind's cognition of it. It 
is the ground 01 movement, change, indeed of all continuous ex- 
istence, and must therefore itself have an existence. If there were 
no such thing as time, there could be no succession, nor change, nor 
any continued existence. Indeed, there could be no existence of 
either mind or matter; for existence implies a continuity of time: 
to exist is to be from one moment to another. Time is thus even 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE TEUE. 835 

less purely subjective than space; for if we should assume that 
both space and matter are mere conceptions of the mind, yet 
even to these very conceptions time is necessary. 

Time Not a Mere Relation. — Some writers, as Dr. Brown, 
define time to be merely the relation of one event to another as 
prior and subsequent. If this view were correct, then it would 
follow that if there were no events there would be no time, since 
there would be no relation of events. Such a supposition, with its 
inference, shows the incorrectness of the theory. Time does not 
depend on the occurrence of events, but the occurrence of events 
depends on time. Time would still exist if all events should 
cease; but were time to be destroyed no succession of events would 
be possible. We can in thought destroy all events except that 
of thought, and thus all relation of events ; but we cannot, by 
any possibility of thought, destroy the existence of time. Time 
is, therefore, not the relation of events as prior and subsequent, 
but the necessary condition for such a relation. 

Time a Relative Idea. — Time, in its popular sense, as a 
measured portion of duration, involves the idea of relation. Our 
idea of any portion of time is modified by the conception of the 
relation of past events to one another. In other words, we seem 
to measure it by the cognition of our present state of conscious- 
ness in its relation to some former state ; by the relation of the 
present me to some former me. Hence, if the mind withdraws 
itself for awhile from passing events, it loses the idea of time. 
This is noticed in sleep, when the time of falling asleep and 
awaking seems to be almost the same moment. The same thing 
occurs when the mind is absorbed in some object of study, and 
is thus abstracted from passing events. 

Elements of Time. — As an objective reality, time possesses 
several attributes of interest to this discussion. First, time is 
continuous; it does not consist of parts separate from one another 
like the different objects of matter. Second, time has one dimen- 
sion, and only one; it is regarded as having length and may be 
represented by a line, one of the elements of space. Third, 



336 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

time is also quantitative; it admits of definite measurement and 
computation. Fourth, time gives rise to, or is closely associated 
with number, the basis of the science of arithmetic. Fifth, time 
is without limit in either direction, as past or future, and is thus 
infinite. 

III. IDENTITY. 

Identity is another of our intuitive ideas. To define this idea, 
or state explicitly in what identity consists, is difficult, if not im- 
possible. Approximately we may say, Identity is sameness, one- 
ness, etc. Whatever marks off or distinguishes an object from all 
other similar or dissimilar objects, whatever constitutes its indi- 
viduality, in that consists its identity. Or, negatively, we may 
say, Identity is non-diversity, non-otherness, etc. It will aid us in 
getting a clear idea of what identity is, by noticing what it is not. 

Not Similarity. — And first we remark that identity is not 
similarity; similar things are not identical. Thus two drops of 
water out of the same spring, of the same size, color, quality, etc., 
so .closely resembling each other that no acuteness of sense or 
delicacy of instruments could detect any difference between them, 
are not identical. By the very supposition, they are not the 
same thing, but different things. To say that two things exactly 
similar are identical, would be to say that two things are only 
one. 

Similarity Not Implied. — Similarity is not only not identity, 
but it is not even implied in identity. An object may preserve 
its identity and lose its resemblance to its former self. The 
spherical india-rubber ball that rests on my hand, is identical 
with the same ball flattened by the pressure of my other hand, 
though there is no resemblance in shape between them. The 
knife opened and shut is the same knife, though quite different in 
appearance. 

Not Sameness of Composition. — Second, identity is not 
sameness of composition. If we take a bar of wood or iron and 
divide it into several equal parts of the same size and shape, so 
that we could not distinguish between them, these parts would 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE TRUE. 337 

not be identical. Even though they are composed of precisely 
the same chemical elements in the same proportion, we could not 
predicate identity of them. Nay more, if we take equal and pre- 
cisely similar parts of any one element, as oxygen, these parts are 
different parts and not the same parts. Any consideration that 
would make two parts identical, would make any number of parts 
identical, so that we should have the paradox of each part being 
itself and each of the others. We remark also, that sameness of 
composition is not necessary to identity, as in the human body, 
which Is constantly changing. 

Origin of the Idea. — The idea of identity is an intuitive cog- 
nition of the reason. Given the fitting occasion, and the idea 
rises spontaneously in the mind. The occasion for the idea is 
comparison ; — the comparing of one thing with another, and of a 
thing with itself, or of different cognitions of the same object. 
The idea of identity is thus probably preceded by that of simi- 
larity and diversity. We see objects that are similar and dis- 
similar, and then begin to compare an object with itself, or dif- 
ferent cognitions of the object at different times, and there arises 
in the mind the idea of identity. 

An Idea of Relation. — The idea of identity, like many others 
of our ideas, is related to its opposite, diversity. Thus the idea 
of long implies its opposite short, the idea of large implies its 
opposite small, straight that of crooked, etc.; so the idea of identity 
stands related to the idea of diversity. To affirm identity is to 
deny diversity ; and to deny diversity is to affirm identity. It 
does not follow from this that there cannot be identity without 
diversity; but that there can be no idea of the one without the 
logical necessity of the other. If there were but one thing in ex- 
istence, there would then be identity but no diversity; but no 
condition can be imagined in which there could be diversity with- 
out identity. 

A Possible Plurality. — In the idea of identity, there is im- 
plied a possible plurality of objects. In order to predicate iden- 
tity, there must be a plurality of cognitions of the object I lo )k 
15 



338 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

at the tree to-day and I declare that it is the same tree that I saw 
yesterday. Here are two cognitions, the cognition of to-day and 
the cognition of yesterday ; and the question arises, are there two 
objects corresponding to these two cognitions, or is there but one 
object? The answer that there is only one object, gives us the 
condition of identity. In the conception of identity, we have an 
immediate and irresistible conclusion, that the object of these 
several cognitions is one and the same object. 

Elements Involved. — In affirming identity, it is thus seen 
that there are several things implied, logically if not consciously, 
to the mind in forming the idea. First, there is implied a real 
plurality of cognitions; second, a possible plurality of objects; 
third, a question whether there is a real plurality of objects cor- 
responding to the plurality of cognitions ; fourth, a conviction 
and decision that there is but one object corresponding to the 
several cognitions ; from which conviction emerges the clear and 
definite notion of identity. 

Application of Identity. — The idea of identity may be ap- 
plied to three distinct classes of objects ; namely, Spiritual Ex- 
istences, Organic Material Existences, and Inorganic Matter. 
The completeness of identity varies somewhat in these three 
classes of existences. It will he noticed that the identity of 
spiritual existences is much more complete than of the other ex- 
istences. 

Spiritual Identity. — The identity of spiritual existences con- 
sists in their continuity of existence. So long as the spirit con- 
tinues to exist, it is the same spirit and not another. Should the 
spirit cease to exist, its identity would cease also, since there 
would be nothing of which to predicate identity. If another 
spirit were created in its place, put in the same body and en- 
dowed with the same conscious experience of the past, and with 
all the thoughts and feelings of the first, it would not be identical 
with the former; for, by the supposition, it is not the same 
spirit but another spirit. 

Personal Identity. — By personal identity we mean that of 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE TRUE. 339 

the spiritual nature rather than that of the body. The basis or 
evidence of personal identity is consciousness. We are conscious 
to-day of the same series of past experiences as we were yester- 
day ; the same past stretches out before our minds ; and we thus 
know intuitively that the conscious self of to-day is identical 
with the conscious self of yesterday. Haven holds that conscious- 
ness is the evidence of identity ; but perhaps it would be more 
correct to say it is the source of the belief of personal identity. 
Consciousness is not exactly the evidence, but it furnishes the oc- 
casion upon which the reason knows our personal identity. 

Locke's View. — Locke held that identity consists in conscious- 
ness. His error is seen in the inference that if consciousness were 
in any way interrupted, as in sleep or fainting, personal identity 
Avould cease. Moreover, if we should become unconscious of 
some event of our lives, we would not be identical now with our- 
selves at that period. Dr. Keed illustrates this point by the sup- 
position of a person who when a boy was whipped for robbing 
an orchard; when a soldier, took a standard from the enemy and 
at that time remembers the whipping ; and who afterward became 
a military commander, and remembers taking the standard but 
not the whipping. Now it follows, from Locke's view, that the 
soldier is identical with the boy and the general with the soldier, 
but the general is not identical with the boy, because not con- 
scious of the same things ; that is, a is 6 and b is c, but a is not c / 

Organic World. — Identity, in the organic world, consists in 
the continuity of the life principle under the same general 
structure and organization. It is not in the body alone, nor in 
the particles of matter of which the body is composed; but in 
those particles of matter permeated with and united into the same 
general structure by the mysterious principle of life. In this 
case, the identity is no longer complete, since the form and size 
of the animal or plant changes year by year, and even the parti- 
cles of which they are composed are continually changing. It is 
only in a modified and partial sense that we can predicate iden- 
tity of an object of the animal or vegetable world. Yet the term 



340 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

is so used; as we say, this is the same tree under which I played 
when a boy ; and this old man, now tottering and feeble, is the 
same person that was so full of strength and agility a few years 
before. 

Inorganic World. — Identity, in the inorganic world, consists 
of sameness of structure and material. For perfect identity, 
there must be no loss of material nor any change in structure or 
constitution. Strictly speaking, there can be no such identity, 
as matter is continually changing ; so that, in respect to the or- 
ganic world, the term identity is used in a secondary and popular 
sense. When we speak of the same mountain or river, we do not 
mean that they are absolutely the same, but that they are the 
same numerical unity, and not some other one of a series. How 
many changes are needed to destroy the identity of an object, 
and just where the application of the term ceases, it may be diffi- 
cult to determine; as in the oft-quoted puzzle of the knife with 
successive blades and handles, or the ship whose original planks, 
ropes, sails, etc., had been replaced by successive repairs. 

IV. CAUSE. 

A Cause may be denned as that which produces an event. 
An event is that which now is, but was not ; or it is that which 
begins to be or occur. The coming into being of a new object 
or fact, and also any change in an existing object, as the ripen- 
ing of an apple or the fading of a flower, are regarded as events. 
All these things are immediately referred, for their existence, to 
some influence which Ave call their cause. The idea of a cause, 
therefore, is that upon which some consequence depends, or with- 
out which some event would not occur. 

Nature of Events. — The term event, from e, out, and venio, I 
come, signifies literally that which comes out or appears. It is 
that which comes out or appears as the result of the operation of 
some agency. It embraces the .phenomena of the material world, 
as the twinkling of a star, the changing of the moon, etc. Under 
the same head are included also states and conditions more or 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE TRUE. 3-11 

less permanent; as the attractive influence of matter, the equi- 
librium of forces, weight of bodies, conditions of fluidity and so- 
lidity, etc. Our ideas, feelings, purposes, volitions, etc., are also 
regarded as events in the. spiritual world. Events are often com- 
plex, consisting of a combination of several simpler events, each 
of which has a distinct cause. 

Cause and Effect. — A cause has sometimes been defined as 
that which produces an effect. The term effect, however, seems 
to contain in itself the idea of cause, at least by implication, and 
may be defined as a "caused event." The definition would thus 
seem somewhat tautological, being equivalent to saying, "a cause 
is that which produces a caused event." It is thus better to de- 
fine a cause as that which produces an event. The terms cause 
and effect are the antitheses of each other, and are so used in 
philosophy. 

Other Views of Cause. — There are some philosophers, of 
whom Hume and Mill are the representatives, who deny that we 
have any real idea of cause. Hume defines cause as merely the 
relation of things as " constantly precedent " and " constantly 
subsequent." He would say "a cause is a constantly precedent 
and an effect is a constantly subsequent event." Mill teaches 
the same doctrine, holding that the " invariable antecedent is 
termed the cause, and the invariable consequent the effect." 

Objections to This View. — In objection to this view it may 
be said that there is more than the mere relation of antecedent 
and consequent, however invariable, in the idea of cause. There 
is the notion that one thing depends on another for its existence, 
or for its existence in the form in which it is presented to us. 
Thus a storm is invariably preceded by a change in the barom- 
eter, yet no one thinks of this change as being the cause of the 
storm. The sun and the day invariably accompany each other 
around the globe, but no one ever thinks of the day being the 
cause of the sun or its light/ The stars are constantly associated, 
one moving before another, but we never hear any one say that 
one star is the cause of another star. Invariability of association, 
and the relation of cause and effect, are two very different things. 



342 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Origin of the Idea. — The idea of cause is the product of in- 
tuition. Given an example of things related as cause and effect, 
.and there immediately arises in the mind the idea of cause. 
Thus, suppose I see a fire and wax near it, and notice the melting 
of the wax ; there immediately arises in my mind the notion that 
the fire is the cause of the melting. Or even given an event un- 
associated with its cause, and the mind naturally and intuitively 
inquires for its origin or cause, showing that the idea is native to 
the mind. If I saw the wax melting, even without seeing the 
fire, I should think there was some cause for the change. 

Other Views of the Origin. — It is supposed by some that 
the idea is given by sensation and perception. This, however, is 
impossible. The idea of cause is not a percept, for it has no 
color, form, etc. We cannot see, or feel, or hear cause ; all that 
we see is the two objects, one in the vicinity of the other, and the 
changing form of the latter. The idea of cause springs up spon- 
taneously in the mind, and is the product of the intuitive power. 

Result of Association. — Neither is the idea the result of as- 
sociation, however invariable, as Hume and Mill teach. The 
diameter and circumference of a circle have been invariably con- 
nected with each other in our experience, but neither is thought 
of as the cause of the other. Neither is it the result of anteced- 
ence and consequence, however often repeated ; for though sum- 
mer invariably precedes autumn, we never think of one as the 
cause of the other. The idea of cause is not identical with in- 
variability of antecedence and consequence, and could not have 
originated in that way. 

Law of Causation. — The idea of cause leads to the law of 
causation. This law is that every event must have a cause. This 
is a universal proposition, and is regarded as a first truth. It is 
a self-evident proposition, carrying with it its own evidence. It 
is a necessary truth ; we see that it not only is true, but that it 
cannot be untrue; no one ever expects to find an example in 
which it is not true. It is a universal truth ; all men accept it 
as true, and act upon it even before they have formally stated it 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE TRUE. 843 

to their minds. The little child, as well us the philosopher, 
makes inquiries in respect to the causes of things. By it we in- 
terpret the facts around us, run back into the past for a solution 
of enigmas, and predict the future from the influences we see 
around us. It is found in the thought of every people, in the 
structure of every language, and controls the actions of the 
world. 

Origin of the Law. — The law of causation, is not the result 
of observation, for no one ever saw every event and every cause. 
It is not an induction from particular cases of cause and effect 
presented by experience or consciousness, for no combination of 
particular cases can give the irresistible belief that every event 
must have a cause. Induction can give only contingent truths, 
and the law is not a contingent truth which may be true and 
which we are willing to believe until we can find an exception to 
it. The law is not only known to be true, but it is known to be 
true without the possibility of an exception to it. Neither can it 
be, as has been claimed, the result of our expectation founded 
upon a customary experience, for the customary can never reach 
the certainty of the necessary. It cannot, therefore, be a general- 
ization from facts in any way, for no multiplication of cases will 
stamp that which is contingent with the seal of necessity and uni- 
versality. No combination of observed contingencies will trans- 
form themselves into a necessity. 

Given by Intuition. — The law of causation is the product of 
intuition. It is to be regarded as a primary truth given by the 
reason. Given sensible experience as an occasion, and this truth 
springs up in the mind, and is known as self-evident and immu- 
table. It is not merely a law of thought which we impose upon 
our observation of phenomena, but is seen to be a correct cog- 
nition of the actual relation of the facts and phenomena of the 
universe. It is one of the grand conceptions of that rational 
nature which stands above and regulates the activities of all the 
other faculties of the mind. 

Nature of Cause. — The idea of cause is more complicated 



344 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

than at first sight appears. First, we notice a distinction between 
the cause of ap event and the condition of the cause producing 
the event. A hammer strikes a stone and fractures it ; if it were 
not for the brittleness of the stone, the effect would not be pro- 
duced; hence the brittleness of the stone is a condition of the 
event. These conditions are often regarded as a part of the com- 
plex cause. Thus Mill says, " The real cause is the whole of the 
antecedents (or conditions), and we have, philosophically speak- 
ing, no right to give the name of cause to one of them exclusively 
of the others." And Hamilton says, " Every effect is only pro- 
duced by the concurrence of at least two causes (and by cause, 
be it observed, I mean everything without which the effect could 
not be realized)." While there is much truth in these remarks, 
it seems to us that we can distinguish between a cause and a con- 
dition. 

Cause Often Complex.— The cause of an effect is, however, 
often complex, involving several distinct elements, each of which 
may be regarded as a cause. Aristotle and the schoolmen 
divided causes into four classes; efficient, material, formal, and 
final causes. To illustrate, a completed work implies four things ; 
an agent by whom it is done, the material of which it is formed, 
the plan or idea after which it is fashioned, and the end for which 
it was formed. Thus, in the production of a statue, there must 
be an artist, a block of marble, an ideal or plan in the mind of 
the artist, and a motive for the execution of the work. These 
four elements correspond to the four causes; efficient, material, 
formal, and final. Among these four causes, Aristotle seems to 
have regarded the final cause as the highest. The discussion of 
this subject is of the deepest interest ; it is a discussion, however, 
which the limits of this work preclude. 

Other Ideas. — There are several other ideas of the Reason 
that are regarded as intuitions of the True, as ISTumber, Equality, 
Being, Substance, Infinity, etc., but the four previously named 
are all that our limits will allow us to discuss. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

THE Beautiful is one of flhe most interesting ideas of the 
Reason. It is also not only an idea, but is regarded as 
having an objective existence, and as thus being an -element of 
the objective world. It is this element that gives rise to the arts 
of music, poetry, painting, sculpture, etc., which we distinguish 
as the Fine Arts. Its laws have been investigated, and efforts 
have been made to develop a science of the Beautiful. The 
science of the Beautiful is known as ^Esthetics. 

Definition. — No definition of Beauty has yet been given 
which has been universally accepted as satisfactory. The ele- 
ment of Beauty is so delicate, its manifestations are so various, 
and its spirit is so Coy and elusive, that it is difficult, if not im- 
possible, to discover in what the Beautiful consists. It is not 
difficult to name a property of a single object which makes it 
beautiful ; but to point out what one quality there is common to 
a beautiful flower, statue, strain of music, and line of poetry, 
has been found to task the powers of the wisest philosophers. It 
is the aim of philosophy, however, to find the one element in dif- 
ferent objects that renders them beautiful, such a discovery being 
necessary for the solution of the aesthetic problem. 

Theories of Beauty. — The various theories of the beautiful 
may be reduced to two general classes : first, those which regard 
beauty as subjective, having its source and existence in the mind ; 
and second, those which regard it as objective, having a real ex- 
istence in or in connection with objects. The principal subjective 
theories are those of Sensation, Association, and Symbolism. 
The principal objective theories are those of Utility, Order and 
15* (345) 



346 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Proportion, Unity and Variety, and Expression, or the Spiritual 
Theory. Some philosophers hold that " the source of beauty is 
not to be sought in any single quality, but in a circle of effects ;" 
and they attempt to point out the different circumstances and 
peculiarities which give rise to the emotion of beauty. 

I. The Subjective Theories. — The subjective theories make 
beauty consist, not in the object, but in ourselves as perceiving 
the object. Its seat and source is within us, and not without us. 
Beauty is not any quality of the object, but only a feeling which 
springs up . in our minds, and which we learn to associate with 
the object. Each of the three principal subjective theories will 
be briefly noticed. 

Theory of Sensation. — Many writers on philosophy make 
beauty a mere sensation. Objects awaken certain feelings; these 
feelings are peculiarly agreeable, and we come to distinguish 
them from other feelings by the term beautiful. Mackenzie de- 
fines beauty as " a certain degree of a certain species of pleasur- 
able effect impressed upon the mind." Alexander Bain remarks 
that " the sesthetic emotions are a class of pleasant feelings sought 
to be gratified by the compositions of fine art." Many other 
writers speak of beauty as a feeling, and seem to teach that beauty 
has no existence except as a sensation or an emotion. They 
point out the characteristics of objects which give rise to the feel- 
ing, but regard them, not as elements of beauty, but merely as 
the circumstances which produce the feeling of beauty. 

Theory of Association. — Several writers make beauty con- 
sist in the association of idea and feeling with the external object. 
Matter and mind are so related that certain peculiarities of the 
former awaken certain feelings in the latter. These feelings, 
which we distinguish by the term beautiful, we begin to transfer 
to and associate with the objects, and thus acquire the habit of 
speaking of the objects as beautiful. Thus Lord Jeffrey says 
that " beauty is the reflection of our own inward sensations," 
and that objects are called beautiful " merely because they all 
possess the power of recalling or reflecting these emotions." 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 847 

Theory of Symbolism. — Another theory is that the beauty 
of objects consists in their being the sign or symbol of pleasing 
ideas or emotions. It is held that beauty is not in the object, but 
that the sensible appearance may, from association with or some 
occult relation to sensations or affections, become the sign of 
them, suggesting them to the mind. Thus the violet is the 
symbol of modesty, the lily of purity, the wild rose of simplicity, 
the oak of strength, the willow of sorrow and affliction, — and this 
power of symbolizing these ideas and feelings constitutes their 
beauty. This theory was held and very fully developed by 
Alison, and it was also the view of Reid, and several of the Ger- 
man philosophers. It makes beauty subjective, having its origin 
in mind rather than existing in matter. 

Objection to These Theories. — All these theories, in making 
beauty subjective, make it purely relative. They assume that 
beauty has no existence in itself, either in mind or in matter, but 
grows out of their relation to each other. Beauty is a mere 
phenomenon resulting from the contact of mind and matter, just 
as the spark which flies from the smitten steel arises from the 
contact of the two, and is not to be regarded as the property of 
either. Beauty has no existence except as a resultant, as the 
spark has no existence when the two elements are not in that 
contact which elicits it. These theories destroy the actual ex- 
istence of beauty in the objects of nature and art. If beauty has 
its source in the mind, then when the mind is withdrawn from an 
object, it is no longer beautiful. A sunset is beautiful when 
seen, and not beautiful when not seen. The same object is 
beautiful to one person who is looking at it, and not beautiful to 
another person who does not see it, — that is, an object is beautiful 
and not beautiful at the same time ! The conclusion to which this 
theory leads shows its incorrectness. 

II. Objective Theories. — There is another class of theories 
with respect to the beautiful that regard it as having an inde- 
pendent objective existence distinct from the mind perceiving or 
enjoying it. These are called the objective theories of beauty. 



348 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

The. principal of these objective theories are those of Utility, 
Order and Proportion, Unity and Variety, and the Spiritual 
Theory. 

Theory of Utility. — It has been held by some writers that 
the fundamental principle of beauty is utility. We perceive in 
the object an adaptation of parts to accomplish some practical 
purpose, and are thus pleased with it. Thus a watch is an object 
of beauty because the parts are so arranged as to obtain the end 
of keeping time. When this principle of utility conduces in 
some way to our own personal welfare, the emotion is deeper and 
the beauty is enhanced. This theory was held by Galen, Mar- 
montel, and apparently by Hume. 

Reasons for the Theory. — It may be urged in favor of this 
theory that the perception of utility in an object heightens our 
appreciation of it. Many objects to which we were indifferent, 
when their use or adaptation to some beneficial purpose becomes 
known to us, are at once clothed with an interest and robed with 
an attraction for us. A story with a moral whose influence tends 
to purify the taste and improve the character, awakens a deeper 
interest and commands more admiration than one without such 
an element. Besides, the contemplation of beautiful objects re- 
fines the taste and elevates the sentiments, and is thus useful ; and 
inverting this fact, it may be inferred that the useful is the beau- 
tiful. 

Objections to the Theory. — The useful is, however, not the beau- 
tiful. Were this so, the most useful things would be the most 
beautiful, and this is far from being true. The water in a canal 
is more useful than the same water dashing down the mountain 
side in a silvery cascade, but it is far less beautiful. Many things 
very useful possess no element of beauty. Thus, to use Burke's 
illustration, the wedge-like snout of the swine, with its tough car- 
tilage for rooting and digging, is very useful, but no one would 
become very enthusiastic in praise of its beauty. 

Further, the emotion of beauty and the feeling of pleasure ex- 
cited by the useful, are entirely dissimilar. One is pure admir- 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 349 

ation, connected, it may be, with our selfish nature; the other is 
a gentle, peaceful feeling, with a character purely its own. Con- 
sciousness reveals a difference, in both the cognition and the feel- 
ing of beauty and utility; and its decisions are final. Again, to 
say that beauty consists in utility, because the beautiful may be 
of advantage to us, is to invert the true relation, and affirm that 
the cause consists in the effect. 

Order and Proportion. — Another theory places the element 
of beauty in order and proportion. By order is meant the ar- 
rangement of the parts of an object; by proportion is meant the 
relation of the several parts to one another. The theory holds 
that the secret principle of beauty consists in the arrangement of 
the parts of a composite body in order and proportion. A flower 
is beautiful because its sepals, petals, etc., are all orderly and 
symmetrical ; and the same thing gives attraction to the human 
face. To put the branches of a tree all on one side, or the eye 
of a man in the back of his head, or his ears at his heels, would 
destroy the order and proportion, and thus destroy the beauty of 
these objects. This was the theory of Augustine, and seems to 
be very nearly the theory held by Aristotle. 

Reasons for the Theory. — In favor of the theory, it may be said 
that all objects which are beautiful, seem to possess this element 
of order and proportion; and all objects which lack it are de- 
ficient in beauty. A work of art lacking order and proportion 
in the arrangement of its parts, so far lacks the element of beauty. 
Several writers, as Hogarth and Kanies, seem to resolve order 
and proportion into fitness or propriety, the proportion of the 
parts being determined by the purpose of the whole. Thus, in 
the contemplation of any object that pleases us, our admiration 
is increased when we discover a fitness in its parts in relation to 
themselves and the whole; and whenever there is a perception of 
unfitness or want of propriety, there is a diminution of beauty. 

Objections to the Theory. — That this principle enters into many 
beautiful objects must be admitted ; that it is the essence of 
beauty is doubted. If beauty consisted in order and proportion, 



350 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

then the more of this element we find in an object the greater its 
beauty ; but this is not always so. There is as much order and 
proportion in a sunflower as in a rose or lily ; but no one will 
claim that their beauty is the same. Two specimens of archi- 
tecture, two statues or paintings, may be equal in order and pro- 
portion, and differ widely in the degree of beauty. There seems 
to be some subtle, invisible element that lies below and is different 
from order and proportion, that gives to an object that mysterious 
element which we call beauty. 

Unity and Variety. — Another theory of beauty is that of 
unity and variety. It holds that the beautiful consists in a 
number of parts or attributes arranged in accordance with some 
definite idea or principle. Unit}'' alone is not beautiful, as a 
single tone in music or the same color in a painting; but unite 
variety with it and we have beauty. Variety alone is not beau- 
tiful, as in the disarranged parts of a picture or a series of dis- 
connected notes in music ; but give us unity with it and the 
beautiful appears. The manifold, united by some principle into 
a unity of thought or design, produces .the beautiful. In a 
picture or a poem, there is found a variety of parts or incidents 
arranged about some leading plan or idea, and this is supposed to 
give it its beauty. This theory was distinctly announced by 
Hutcheson, and has been accepted by several subsequent writers. 
Hegel teaches that the form in which beauty manifests itself is 
the "unity of the manifold." Another statement of the theory 
is that beauty consists in unity of latv and variety of expression. 

Reasons for the Theory. — In favor of this theory it may be said 
that objects which we call beautiful possess this element. It is 
especially apparent among the geometrical figures. Among the 
plane figures, the regular polygon is more beautiful than the ir- 
regular polygon, because there is more of unity in the variety ; 
and the circle is more beautiful than the regular polygon, since 
in it there is perfect unity of law and perfect variety of expression. 
The same holds good among the solid bodies, the sphere, possess- 
ing perfect unity in variety, being the most beautiful. In a 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 351 

painting, while there must be variety of object and color, in order 
to please, they must all be arranged with reference to some lead- 
ing thought or purpose. So in music, while there must be variety 
of tones, there must also be a unity of idea or sentiment running 
all through the piece in order to gratify the taste and give real 
enjoyment. Hogarth's line of beauty and line of grace both 
illustrate and serve to authenticate this theory. 

Objections to the Theory. — It may be objected to this theory, 
first, that not everything which possesses unity and variety is 
beautiful ; and also that the beauty of objects is not always pro- 
portional to the amount of unity and variety in them. Second, 
a few objects are regarded as beautiful which do not possess 
variety, as a single color, say blue or orange. Third, a few 
objects are regarded as beautiful which do not possess unity, as a 
gorgeous sunset, in which the golden tints are not grouped ac- 
cording to any one idea or plan. It must be acknowledged, how- 
ever, that the objections are not very strong, and that there are 
many good reasons for regarding unity and variety as the law of 
the expression of beauty, if not its fundamental principle. 

The Spiritual Theory.- — Another theory makes beauty to 
consist in the manifestation or expression of the invisible spiritual 
element under sensible forms. There are two distinct elements 
in the world, the visible and the invisible, the form and the idea, 
matter and spirit. Beauty consists not in matter alone, nor in 
spirit alone, but in the union of these elements in such a way that 
the latter expresses the former. When these are united in such 
a manner that the material manifests the spiritual, the form ex- 
presses the idea, the visible reveals the invisible, our own spir- 
itual nature meeting itself in what it sees, is touched and thrilled, 
and the soul recognizes itself as standing in the presence of the 
beautiful. Dr. Hickok says the beautiful consists of the dead 
form " quickened by the presence of an inner spirit," of the 
empty figure filled " Avith a beating heart and a glowing soul.'' , 

Origin of the TAeorz/.— This theory was first suggested by Platp 
and has been adopted by many subsequent writers. Hegel re- 



352 MENTAL SCIENCE. . • 

gards beauty as the shining of tlic idea through a sensuous 
medium, lluskin's typical beauty consists of qualities of objects 
typifying a divine attribute. There is Infinity, the type of the 
divine incomprehensibility ; Unity, the type of the divine com- 
prehensibility ; Repose, the type of the divine permanence; 
Symmetry, the type of the divine justice; Purity, the type of the 
divine energy; Moderation, the type of government by law. 

In Inorganic Forms.- — According to this theory, the beauty of 
objects of the inorganic world consists in their manifesting some 
spiritual principle or some element relating to the mind. In the 
regular forms of the crystal we see the idea of law and order ; 
the regularity of the angles suggests the mathematical thought 
of him who formed it; and the beautiful gem, Hashing with 
liquid light, seems to be a shrine of grace, delicacy, refinement, 
and purity, and is admirable to us as it discloses these hidden 
charms to our admiring souls. 

In Organic Forms. — The beauty of the organic world, vege- 
table and animal, consists in the revelation of some thought or 
sentiment that pervades them and shines out from them. Thus 
the violet expresses the idea of modesty, the lily of purity, the 
oak of majesty; and it is such an idea or sentiment shining out 
from them that gives them their beauty. So in the animal 
kingdom, the dove expresses affection, the horse strength and 
agility, the eagle soaring ambition, the tiger grace united with 
power, the lion dignity and courage; and it is the expression of 
these elements that gives beauty. Man crowns the sphere of or- 
ganic beauty because he manifests most fully all the various 
forms of thought and feeling. ' 

Beauty in Man. — Man is a complex being, consisting of soul 
and body. In man's body we have the marvellous expression of 
the Creator's thought; and he is himself, in his spiritual nature, 
a centre and source of thought. As an organic being, he has or- 
ganic beauty of the highest order; but no mere flush and fullness 
of physical life can account for the beauty of the human race. 
It is the soul life shining out through the form and features ami 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. ->■).', 

actions that gives man his highest beauty. Through the complex 
and varied organ, the human face, and through thought, feeling, 
and action, which constitute human conduct and evince human 
character, we find the highest manifestation of a spiritual ele- 
ment ; and it is this which places man at the head of all beautiful 
objects. Of all visible objects, the human face stands first in the 
productions of art; and the grandest products of genius are those 
that pertain to human conduct and character. The highest 
form of beauty in man is where the three-fold powers of thought, 
feeling, and will are blended into one grand purpose in life. It 
is not truth merely latent in thought, but truth patent in char- 
acter; it is truth passing down from the intellect into the heart, 
and through the heart into tin; will, and all uniting in that grand 
spiritual product called character, that crowns man with the 
diadem of highest earthly beauty. 

Remarks on the Theory. — The spiritual theory is the most 
elevated of all the theories of the beautiful. It is distinctly held 
by many of the profoundest thinkers in philosophy; and the 
highest thought of philosophy and art tends toward this doctrine. 
That it contains much truth must be admitted ; whether it con- 
tains the whole truth is a question. It cannot be forgotten that 
the beauty of flowers, as of the violet or rose, is perceived long 
before there is any idea of the conception which they express, 
and that the beauty of* animals is not in proportion to their in- 
telligence, or else the monkey would be far more beautiful than 
the gazelle. As the result of the highest philosophy, however, 
we may say that beauty consists in the expression of the spiritual 
under the form of the sensible; and that the form in which it 
usually presents itself is that of unity and variety. 

II. THE SUBLIME. 

The Sublime is an intuitive idea closely related to that of 
beauty, and is usually treated in connection with the Beautiful. 
In an enlarged sense of the term, the Beautiful is used to include 
both beauty proper and sublimity. Tn popular language, how- 



354 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ever, we distinguish between the beautiful and the sublime. 
They are both embraced under the head of aesthetic ideas. 

Idea and Emotion .—The sublime embraces both an idea 
and an emotion ; and the same term is used to name them both. 
The emotion of sublimity is deep and serious in its nature; in it 
the mind is agitated, awed, subdued, and elevated. The feeling 
of sublimity, like that of beauty, is more prominent than the 
idea; and some writers have thus regarded sublimity as an 
emotion rather than an idea. This, however, is an error; as 
there must be some cognition of sublimity in an object, or there 
would be no feeling awakened by it. It is easier to describe the 
feeling than to discover what attribute is contained in the object 
that awakens the feeling; and thus the idea and attribute are 
often overlooked in the discussion. 

Nature of the Sublime. — The nature of sublimity, like that 
of beauty, is difficult of explanation. It is easy to point out 
attributes and peculiarities of different objects that give rise to 
the emotion of sublimity ; but it is not easy to discover what one 
element is contained in objects that renders them sublime. One 
class of thinkers hold that there is no one element, or at least 
that no one element can be discovered in objects; the highest 
philosophy, however, has ever sought to discover the one fun- 
damental principle of sublimity amid the variety of sublime 
objects. The two explanations that are most satisfactory are 
those founded on the two principal theories of beauty ; the spir- 
itual theory and the theory of unity and variety. 

The Spiritual Theory. — The spiritual theory makes the 
beautiful and sublime both consist in the manifestation of the 
invisible or spiritual element in the visible and material. It dis- 
tinguishes them by the relative proportion of these two elements 
in the object. In the beautiful, the visible and the invisible, the 
finite and the infinite, are harmoniously blended. In the sublime 
the spiritual element predominates, the harmony is disturbed, the 
sensible is overborne by the supersensible, and our spirits are 
agitated by the presence, in an unwonted degree, of the higher 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 355 

element of our being. The feeling raised by one is calm and 
peaceful ; the other awes and subdues the soul. Dr. Hickok 
says, " When the disclosed sentiment is that of a superhuman 
spirit, and we stand awestruck in the presence of an angel or a 
divinity, the beauty rises proportionally and elevates itself to the 
sublime." 

Unity and Variety. — The nature of the sublime may also be 
explained by the theory of unity and variety. In a sublime 
object, the unity and variety are enlarged and intensified. They 
seem to-be transcending the limits of the understanding, so that 
the mind is unable to estimate or fully grasp the object. As 
long as the unity and variety are measurable, the mind remains 
quiet and composed ; but when it is sensible that these are escap- 
ing it, are overwhelming it, that it is in the midst of the immeas- 
urable and the infinite, the object ceases to be beautiful, and 
becomes sublime. Thus a lake or a river is beautiful, for we 
seem to be able to grasp their magnitude ; but the ocean, stretch- 
ing far away until the mind falters and is bewildered in the pur- 
suit, is sublime. 

The Correct Conception. — This last explanation hints at the 
true nature of sublimity. The fundamental element of sublimity 
seems to be that of infinity, or an approximation to infinitude. 
Whatever passes beyond the byunds of the finite, or awakens the 
cognition of the infinite, that is to us sublime. The idea of 
space unlimited in every direction, of time without beginning or 
end, of a first cause uncaused, of the immeasurable extent of 
creation, — all these make the soul swell with the sentiment of 
sublimity. So anything that approximates to these ideas, or that 
awakens the idea of the infinite, tends to awaken a similar feel- 
ing in the mind, and is thus regarded as sublime. 

Elements of Sublimity. — This element of infinitude or ap- 
proximation to the infinite, manifests itself in a variety of ways. 
It appears in Form, in the element of Vastness ; in Force, in the 
element of Power ; in Sounds, in the element of Loudness. The 
principal elements of the sublime are thus Vastness, Power, and 



356 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Loudness. All of these may approximate to the infinite, or sug- 
gest the infinite to the mind, and are thus elements of sublimity. 

Vastness. — Extension far beyond the ordinary limits suggests 
to the mind the idea of infinity, and gives that expansion to the 
soul which awakens the emotion of sublimity. The wide-spread- 
ing ocean, the liquid depths of the overarching sky, the abyss of 
space filled with countless worlds, endless numbers and eternal 
duration — all these are sublime objects. Extension in a vertical 
direction is more sublime than the same extension in a horizontal 
direction ; Mont Blanc, with its snowy brow in the heavens, is 
more sublime than if the same extent of rock and snow were 
stretched out on the surface of the earth. The reason for this is 
that extent upward exceeds our accustomed measures of altitude 
more than the same extent would exceed our measure of hori- 
zontal distance, and thus approximates more nearly to infinity. 

Obscurity. — Obscurity is also an element of the sublime. 
This is due to the indistinctness of outline, rendering it impossi- 
ble for us to limit the size of the object, and thus the size is ex- 
aggerated and is suggestive of the idea of infinitude. For this 
reason, objects at night, when their forms, clothed with shadow, 
merge in the darkness and are not grasped by the mind, seem 
larger than they do by day, and thus more sublime. There is 
also sometimes an element of aw r e and terror associated with them 
that adds to the element of sublimity. The description of a 
spirit appearing in the silence and darkness of night, as given in 
Job, is a fine example of sublimity. 

Great Power. — Vast power is also an element of sublimity, 
as it is suggestive of infinite pow T er. The ordinary forces of 
nature or art do not possess the element of sublimity ; but when 
we notice forces that largely transcend these ordinary forces, the 
idea and emotion of sublimity are awakened. Thus a thunder- 
storm, the rushing cataract, the heaving earthquake, the belching 
volcano, a storm at sea, cause the soul to swell with the feelings 
of sublimity. The presence of great power accounts for the feel- 
ing of sublimity awakened by some of the animals, as the lion, 



THE INTUITION'S OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 307 

the ponderous elephant, the war-horse with his neck clothed with 
thunder. Among the works of art, we have the vast engine with 
its noiseless motions, the rushing, thundering locomotive, and the 
majestic steamer ploughing the hillows of the deep. The de- 
scription of the war-horse in the book of Job is a fine example of 
this element in literature. 

Great Loudness. — An unusual loudness in sound gives rise 
to the idea and emotion of sublimity, on account of its suggesting 
infinite vastness or power. Thus the deep bass of the organ, the 
crashing of thunder, the roar of the cataract, the booming of 
cannon, the roar of a multitude of voices, are examples of the 
sublime in sound. John's description in Revelation of the voices 
in heaven, " And I heard as it were the voice of a great multi- 
tude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty 
thunderings, saying, Alleluia; for the Lord God Omnipotent 
reigneth," is a fine example of the sublime in sound. 

Grandeur and Sublimity. — Some writers distinguish be- 
tween grandeur and sublimity; the difference, however, is not 
generic, but merely one of degree. Grandeur is a lower form, 
or less degree of sublimity. It is, as it were, a transition point 
between, the beautiful and the sublime. The peacefully flowing 
river is beautiful ; as it gathers impulse and purpose and rushes 
on in rapids, it is grand ; when shivered and wild with motion it 
leaps the cataract in eager masses, it is sublime. "A character 
shaped upon truth is beautiful; standing upon truth amid the 
violence of enemies, is grand ; adhering to truth amid the de- 
rision of friends and in defiance of the rack and fagot, is sub- 
lime." 

Tlie Sublime and Beautiful. — The sublime and beautiful, 
when associated in nature and art, make the deepest impressions 
on the mind. A Swiss valley nestling among the hills, with a 
silvery stream winding through it, is beautiful; the snow-clad 
mountains that, serene and majestic, tower heavenward and bathe 
their brows in the blue ether above, are sublime ; and the two 
united, as at Chamouni, form such a combination of blended 



358 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

beauty and sublimity as moves the soul with deepest feelings 
of pleasure. Niagara is both beautiful and sublime. The emer- 
ald hue of the flowing river, the roar of the plunging water, the 
mist rising in fleecy clouds toward the zenith, the rainbow arch 
quivering in the rising mist and crowning the scene with a 
diadem of color, both thrill and awe the human soul. In such a 
combination, the beauty tempers and adorns the sublimity ; and 
the sublimity dignifies and ennobles the beauty. This is illus- 
trated in the sunrise flashing along the summit of the Alps, in 
the eloquent orations of Chatham and Webster, in the great epics 
of Homer and Milton, and in the grand oratorios of Handel and 
the sublime symphonies of Beethoven. 

Moral Sublimity. — There is also an element of sublimity in 
human actions and character. Actions which in greatness and 
nobility far transcend those to which we are accustomed, awaken 
the idea and emotion of sublimity. Newton's discovery of the 
law of gravity, La Place's comprehension of all the laws of me- 
chanics in a single equation, Napoleon's victories over the Aus- 
trians, are examples of intellectual sublimity. Brutus trampling 
on his natural affections and condemning his sons to death, Vir- 
ginius stabbing his own daughter to save her honor, Regulus 
refusing to break his promise and going back to be put to death 
by the Carthaginians, Socrates calmly discussing philosophy dur- 
ing the closing hours of his life, — are examples of the sublime in 
character. The sublimest scene of all is the death of Jesus on 
Calvary, with the dying utterances, "Father, forgive them," and 
"It is finished." Truly could Rousseau say that "Socrates died 
like a hero ; but Jesus Christ like a Grod." 

III. THE LUDICROUS. 
The Ludicrous is an idea closely related to that of the Beau- 
tiful. These two ideas are both embraced under the head of 
aesthetic conceptions. A general notion of their relation is ex- 
pressed when we say that they are in a certain sense the opposite 
of each other. Thus, the leading idea of the beautiful is har- 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 350 

mony and proportion ; while the leading element of the ludicrous 
is disproportion and a lack of harmony. The one pleases on 
account of the harmonious relation of the several parts ; the 
other pleases on account of some incongruity in the parts re- 
lated. 

The Ludicrous an Idea. — It has been customary to regard 
the ludicrous merely as an emotion, and not as ah idea. This, 
however, we regard as an error. Whenever we look at certain 
objects, we are aware of an agreeable feeling which manifests 
itself in smiles or laughter. This feeling we call the emotion of 
the ludicrous. As the basis of this feeling, there must have been 
some conception, some cognition of an element in the object, 
which awakened the emotion. Without a cognition of the 
ludicrous, there could be no feeling of the ludicrous ; we there- 
fore maintain that the ludicrous is an idea, as well as an emotion, 
and should be treated under the Intellect rather than the Sensi- 
bilities. 

A Rational Idea. — This idea of the ludicrous is a rational 
idea ; it is, like the beautiful and sublime, a cognition of our 
higher intuitive power. As in the case of the other rational 
ideas, the brute shows no conception of it ; no animal except man 
ever laughs at the incongruous or manifests any enjoyment of it. 
The idiot and the uncultivated savage have very little apprecia- 
tion of this element ; and the uncultured person less than the cul- 
tured. The higher the scale of civilization and culture, the more 
sensitive is the mind to this idea of the ludicrous. It is thus a 
rational idea, an idea that belongs to our higher intellectual 
nature, and has its place along with the ideas of the True, the 
Beautiful, and the Good. 

The Emotion. — The idea of the ludicrous is always accom- 
panied with an emotion of the ludicrous. This emotion is a 
species of joy or gladness, a pleasurable excitement of feeling 
that manifests itself in a joyousness of heart and a smiling face. 
It wreathes the face with smiles, causes the eyes to sparkle with 
delight, and often breaks out into that strong physical expression 



860 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

which we call laughter. The. emotion is often so strong as to 
conceal or eclipse the idea, so that many writers overlook the 
conception and treat the ludicrous merely as an emotion. 

Origin of the Idea. — The idea of the ludicrous, as has al- 
ready been stated, is intuitive, — it is a product of the reason. It 
arises in the mind on the occasion of sensible experience. I look 
at an object or listen to a story ; I see the object and hear the 
words ; but by the eye of intuition I perceive some peculiarity 
which awakens an emotion that expresses itself in a smile or a 
laugh. The physical eye does not see it, the ear does not hear 
it ; but, as with the Right and the Beautiful, there is an immediate 
perception by the Reason of some element which gives rise to this 
peculiar feeling of gladness and buoyancy of spirit. 

I. Nature of the Ludicrous. — The nature of the ludicrous, 
like that of the beautiful and right, is a subject that has puzzled 
philosophy. The question is, what is that one principle that per- 
vades all objects, which awakens the idea and emotion of the 
ludicrous? A few of the different theories will be presented. 

Theory of Aristotle. — Aristotle regarded Comedy, which is 
the expression of the ludicrous, as an illustration of worthless 
characters in relation to what is mean, when it is not so to a 
painful degree. Quintilian thinks that "A saying that causes 
laughter is generally based on false reasoning (some play of 
words), has always something low in it; . . . is never honorable 
to the subject." Campbell mentions " that laughter is associated 
with the perception of oddity, and not necessarily with degrada- 
tion or contempt." Kant makes the ridiculous arise from the 
sudden collapse of a long-raised and highly-wrought expectation. 

TJievry of Hobbes. — The celebrated theory of Hobbes is that 
"Laughter is a sudden glory arising from the sudden conception 
of some eminency in ourselves, by comparison with the infirmity 
of others or with our own formerly." In other words, as Bain 
remarks, it is an expression of "the pleasurable feeling of 
superior power." The person who laughs is for the time supposed 
to be superior to that at which he laughs. Thus we laugh at 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 361 

some defect of body, mind, or manner ; some blunder, or awkward- 
ness, or lack of sharpness or courage, etc., feeling above and 
looking down upon the person who exhibits them. In reply to 
this theory, it is sufficient to say that we do not always laugh at 
what is inferior to us, that we often laugh at what is not inferior 
to us, and that the proud and haughty, who most look down on 
inferiors, do not laugh most. 

The True Theory. — The essential element of the ludicrous 
seems to me to be the incongruous. Whatever the object may 
he at which we laugh, it will always be found to contain the ele- 
ment of incongruity. For example, a face awry, a fly on the 
end of one's nose, an awkward attitude, a pompous manner, a big 
hat on a small person, big words in descrihing little things, a pig 
in a church, an old deacon nodding during the sermon, — all such 
things contain an element of incongruity, and are, for this reason, 
laughable. Should we see a perfumed dandy, tripping along 
!'>ioadway, suddenly slip and fall sprawling into the mud, we 
should laugh; a dandy floundering in the mud is certainly an 
incongruous spectacle. 

Incongruity the Element. — This element of incongruity is 
often accompanied with some accessories that increase the in- 
fluence of a humorous object; but whatever else is wanting, this 
element of the incongruous must always be present. No object 
is humorous without it ; and every object that is humorous pos- 
sesses it. In nature or art, in objects or ideas, whatever causes us 
to laugh, will be found to lack some congruity or harmony or 
relation among the parts. Not everything that is incongruous is 
ludicrous, however, for there may be some other element that 
counteracts the natural effect of the incongruous, such as pity, 
fright, etc. In these cases the greater emotion overpowers the 
lighter and destroys the effect of the incongruous. But all 
things which awaken an emotion of the ludicrous will be found 
to contain this element of disproportion and incongruity. 

Incongruity in Conditions. — This element of incongruity 
is seen in a variety of objects. One form is that of the incon- 
10 



362 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

gruity of conditions. Thus the incongruity hetween the inten- 
tional condition of the dandy and his actual condition in the 
mud, is a source of the mirthful feeling. A person who prides 
himself on his knowledge and is pompous in its display, hecomes 
an object of laughter when he makes a blunder. A lady who 
puts on line airs and pretends to polite accomplishments makes 
herself very ridiculous when her manners are coarse and her 
language unrefined and ungrammatical. The ignorant servant 
girl imitating the airs and manners of her mistress is a subject 
for laughter. 

Similar and Dissimilar. — The incongruous manifests itself 
when amid the diversity there is an apparent similarity. Thus 
the humor in a pun is occasioned by the diversity of thought 
combined with the similarity of sound. This is seen also in the 
example of the Irish girl, who, when she brought a glass of water 
in her hand, was told by her master to bring things on a waiter, 
and next day brought in his boots on a waiter. This was John- 
son's idea of wit, when he defined it as "a kind of concordia 
discors, a combination of dissimilar images." Campbell also ex- 
pressed this same idea in his "strange assemblage of related 
images." The humorous is thus a similarity in dissimilarity, or 
a dissimilarity in similarity ; it is a kind of discordant harmony, 
a disagreeing agreement, an appropriate impropriety, etc. 

Design and Execution. — The incongruous frequently mani- 
fests itself in the incongruity between purpose and execution. 
The person who aims at great nicety of speech and misses the 
mark, is naturally laughed at. The lady who, trying to make a 
show of her fine clothes, gets some of her garments awry, becomes 
an example of the ridiculous. Biddy's bringing in the boots on 
the waiter is the more laughable, because she thought she was 
doing what her master ordered. The little insect on the lady's hat 
Avhich gave occasion to the poem, "O wad some power the 
giftie gie us," was much more ludicrous to the poet on account 
of the fine clothes and fashionable bonnet of Miss Jenny, than if 
it had been on " some poor body." 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 363 

Element of Surprise, — The element of surprise increases the 
effect of the ludicrous. The unexpectedness of the joke makes it 
more effective than if we knew what was coming. That which 
flashes on the mind, which comes with a little shock to it, pro- 
duces the deeper effect. The quick repartee, the Hash of a sudden 
witticism, the bubbling up of a humorous expression, — these are 
the most pleasing to us. The tardy repartee, the witticism that 
is studied out, are much less effective than the quick and spon- 
taneous flash of wit. The knowledge that Sheridan had studied 
out and prepared his wit would have largely detracted from its 
effect. Wit is like champagne, — lively, fresh, and sparkling, 
which loses its flavor and life when brought to the air. 

Surprise is not an essential clement of the ludicrous, however; 
for all things which surprise us are not funny. We are sur- 
prised at the loss of a friend, but it is not at all humorous. The 
sudden fall of a window by which we are sitting makes us jump, 
but does not make us laugh. My friend laughs at me because I 
jump, for he sees the incongruity between my fright and the in- 
significance of the cause. 

Element of Novelty. — The element of novelty increases the 
effect of the ludicrous. The unexpectedness of a joke or a 
humorous remark causes it to produce a deeper impression on 
the mind. Familiarity with a witticism makes it lose its flavor; 
a humorous story repeated several times loses its freshness and 
zest, and at last becomes stale and intolerable. Wit and humor 
do not depend on novelty, however. The new is not necessarily 
funny. A new object, a new book, a new picture, etc., do not 
awaken feelings of mirthfulness. Novelty is merely an added 
element to the humorous, as it is to beauty, though it is more 
essential to humor than it is to beauty. 

II. Forms of the Ludicrous. — The ludicrous manifests itself 
in various forms. It is found in both objects and ideas; and in 
either case the incongruous relation may be accidental or inten- 
tional. Certain forms of the accidental grouping of objects or 
ideas constitute what is called the blunder or bull. The incon- 



364 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

gruous relation of ideas gives us the two distinct forms, called 
wit and humor. 

Ludicrous in Objects. — The incongruous relation of objects 
is often amusing. A very long nose, a grimace, some odd ar- 
rangement of the hair, some disarrangement of the dress, etc., will 
excite laughter. This may be the result of accident, as with the 
dandy slipping into the mud, and the lady with the insect on her 
bonnet. Objects may also be brought into incongruous relations 
intentionally, giving us two forms of the ludicrous. Thus a 
person may imitate the peculiarities and oddities of some indi- 
vidual, giving rise to what is called buffoonery; or he may play 
off his joke at his own expense for the amusement of others, in 
which case we have the cloivn. 

The Slander. — The accidental grouping of incongruous ideas 
gives us what is called the blunder or bull. This is the special 
form known as Irish wit. Its characteristic is that there is some 
inconsistency between the thing said and done and the thing 
meant. There is an apparent congruity in the things related, but 
a real incongruity. Swift gives a good illustration of this form 
of humor in the story of the people who, becoming angry at a 
banker, threatened to burn the notes of his bank, not thinking 
that it would make them poorer and him richer. A story is told 
of an Irishman whose face was blackened before being wakened 
to start on his early journey, and who reaching the next hotel 
looked in the glass and seeing his plight, exclaimed, " Shu re 
they 've waked the wrong man and left me ten miles behind." 
Two Irishmen, walking on the road leading from Newburgh, 
came upon an old milestone, when one of them, supposing it to 
be a tombstone, said, " Tread lightly, Jamie, the dead rest here ; 
he was twenty-seven years old, and his name was Miles, from 
Newburgh." AVendell Phillips gives a good example of this kind 
of humor when, in showing that we have borrowed our jokes 
from the ancients, he says that " the Irish bulls are mostly 
Greek." 

Wit and Humor. — Two forms of the humorous in ideas, 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 865 

often contrasted, are those of wit and humor. It is difficult to 
state clearly the distinction between them, though the difference 
is easily appreciated. Wit is bright and sparkling ; humor is 
soft, gentle, and glowing. Wit has an air of smartness and 
sharpness; humor is modest and kindly in its nature. The 
former may be compared to the quick spark of the Ley den jar; 
the latter to the soft, gentle current of the galvanic battery. Wit 
is sometimes bitter and malevolent ; humor is always kindly and 
good-natured. Thackeray, one of the greatest humorists, defines 
humor to be "a compound of wit and love." "The best humor," 
he says, " is that which contains the most humanity, that which is 
flavored throughout with tenderness and kindness." In a literary 
production, wit should come in only by flashes, while humor may 
be continued for a long time with enjoyment. As a literary 
quality, humor is much higher than wit; and, it may be added, 
is much more rare. 

The Pan. — A form of wit in which dissimilar ideas are re- 
lated by means of similar words is called the pun. The pun is 
thus a play upon words ; and is entitled the wit of words. The 
effect of a pun depends upon the contrast between the two ideas 
related under cover of a common or similar word; the greater 
the incongruity between these ideas, the more ludicrous the effect 
and the more perfect the pun. One of the best puns in the 
language, perhaps, is that of Hood's in " Faithless Nelly Gray," 
in which he says, when she died : 

"They went and told the sexton, 
And the sexton tolled the bell." 

The pun is regarded as an inferior kind of wit; yet a good pun 
is sometimes very effective. 

Satire and Sarcasm. — Similar to the incongruity of the 
ideas of words, is the incongruity between the thought expressed 
and intended, where one thing is said and another thing is meant. 
This includes the bull, in which the incongruity is accidental, 
and two other forms, satire and sarcasm, in which the incongruity 
is intentional. Satire is that form in which, under the guise of 



366 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

apparent praise, are hidden the arrows of ridicule and criticism. 
In sarcasm the censure is stronger and more bitter, and the form 
is more direct and less hidden. Satire pierces with a polished 
rapier ; sarcasm cuts with a rough-edged sword. 

Btivlesque. — When the incongruity consists in the debasing 
of what is great and noble, by representing it as mean and con- 
temptible, we have what is called burlesque. Butler's Hudibras 
thus ridicules the Puritans of the days of Cromwell ; and Don 
Quixote is a burlesque on the days of chivalry. The term bur- 
lesque is also applied to a ludicrous imitation or caricature of 
some elevated composition. A humorous imitation or application 
of a poem is called a parody. 

The Mock-Heroic. — When the incongruity consists in ele- 
vating low and trivial subjects into a dignity by high-sounding 
epithets, we have what is known as the mock-heroic. It is so 
called because it burlesques the heroic by imitating the manners 
or actions of heroes. Pope's "Rape of the Lock" is a good 
specimen of the mock-heroic. Some parts of Irving's " Knicker- 
bocker's History of New York " present an excellent example of 
this form of the humorous. 

Relation of the JEsthetic Elements. — Having discussed the 
nature of the three aesthetic elements — the beautiful, the sublime, 
and the ludicrous— we are prepared to notice a little more defi- 
nitely their relation to one another. In beauty there is a har- 
mony of relations; in sublimity there is a suggestion of the 
infinite; in the ludicrous the harmony becomes distorted and the 
relation is that of the incongruous. In the beautiful, the spiritual 
and material are harmoniously blended ; in . the sublime, this 
harmony is broken by the predominance of the spiritual ; in the 
humorous, the harmony is also destroyed by the loss of the 
spiritual element and the predominance of the material. In 
beauty, there is unity and variety of expression ; in sublimity, the 
variety is lost in the suggestion of infinity; in humor, the unity 
is lost, and the variety exists in disproportion and incongruity. 



THE INTUITION'S OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 367 

IV. The Power of Taste. 

The power of the mind which has to do with the element of 
beauty has received the special name of Taste. This term is so 
widely used by writers that it will be appropriate to inquire just 
what we mean by it. Taste has been variously defined by dif- 
ferent authors ; some making it a mere sensation, some an intel- 
lectual perception, and others uniting both of these elements in 
their definition. Thus Blair defines it as " a power of receiving 
pleasure from the beauties of nature and art." McDermot re- 
gards it as "the power of discriminating those qualities" in 
objects which excite in us pleasant emotions. Alison defines it as 
"that faculty of the mind by which we perceive and enjoy what- 
ever is beautiful or sublime in the works of nature or art." 

Difficulty of Defining. — This variety in the definitions given 
by different writers on the subject, indicates that it is difficult to 
determine what is meant by Taste. As we find the term used in 
literature and philosophy, it is not easy to ascertain just what 
elements of the mind it is designed to embrace. The difficulty is 
not in understanding the action of the mind in respect to aesthetic 
ideas ; but in deciding how many of these actions or states shall 
be included in the term taste. The question is thus not a purely 
psychological one, but partly a philological question. The object 
of this discussion is to ascertain what mental elements are prop- 
erly included in this word. 

The Mental Elements. — The elements of the mind exercised 
in the aesthetic attributes of objects are two-fold ; an intellectual 
and an emotional element. First, there is a perception of the 
aesthetic element ; this is an act of the reason. Second, there is a 
feeling awakened by this perception ; this is an act of the sensi- 
bilities. The emotional element is often so strong as to lead us 
to overlook the intellectual element. Some hold that the emo- 
tional element precedes and is the basis of the idea; they say we 
first experience the emotion of the beautiful, and this emotion 
leads us to think there is an idea of beauty and a quality in 
objects called beauty which produces the emotion. This, how- 



368 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ever, we regard as incorrect ; the idea is the basis of the feeling, 
and not the feeling of the idea. The action of the mind, which 
we have explained above, applies to the element of the sublime 
and the ludicrous, as well as the beautiful, all of which are 
aesthetic ideas. 

What is Taste? — Which of these elements should be included 
in the term taste t Is taste entirely intellectual, or entirely emo- 
tional, or is it a combination of these two elements ? The correct 
view, we think, is that taste includes both of these elements; it is 
both intellectual and emotional in its nature. When we speak 
of a person's taste, we mean both the power to perceive the 
beautiful and the power to enjoy the beautiful. A person of 
good taste is one who can both see and appreciate the aesthetic 
elements in nature and art. We may thus define taste to be that 
power by ivhich we perceive and enjoy the cesthetic elements in the 
objects of nature and art. Under the aesthetic elements, as already 
explained, we include the beautiful, the sublime, and the ludi- 
crous. Using the word beautiful in its generic sense, as including 
these three elements, we have the following definition : Taste is 
that power of the mind by ivhich we perceive and enjoy whatever is 
beautiful in nature and art. 

Taste Not a Faculty. — It is thus seen that taste is not a 
faculty, but rather a combination of the action of two faculties, or 
two distinct forms of mental activity. It is thus properly called 
a power, a term which we use in a more popular sense than the 
term faculty. A faculty implies a distinct form of mental 
activity, and is thus simple in its operation. A power may be 
the combination of distinct operations of two or more faculties. 

Element of Judgment. — It will be noticed that we have not 
included the element of judgment under the term taste. There 
seems to be sufficient reason for this. A person manifests his 
taste by the judgments he expresses on the works of art; but the 
judgment is not his taste. Taste lies back of and conditions his 
judgment. Correct judgments show good taste; incorrect judg- 
ments manifest bad taste. The taste seems to be the subjective 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 369 

condition of mind which perceives and enjoys, rather than the 
affirmation or expression of these conditions. Our judgments re- 
flect our opinions, but are not a part of that condition of the 
mind which gives rise to and shapes our opinions. Taste is ' the 
mental condition or action which directs and moulds our judg- 
ments of objects of beauty, and does not include the faculty of 
judgment. 

Relation of the Elements. — The two elements, perception 
and appreciation, do not always exist in equal proportions. 
There may be acute sensibilities without a very clear perception 
of the beautiful, and there will then be intense delight over the 
beauties that are perceived, but a lack of delicate perception of 
beauty. Without this perception, many of the objects of art are 
not regarded as beautiful. The soul may stand in the presence 
of a statue of Canova or Thorwaldsen, and be unable to see the 
beauties which it expresses. The cataract of Niagara, which 
awakens feelings of sublimity in most minds, may seem to some 
dull soul merely a good place to wash sheep. The simple melody 
may awaken feelings of beauty in the heart of the peasant who 
can see no beauty in the sublime choruses of Handel, or the 
heavenly sonatas of Beethoven. 

Application of Taste. — The power of taste, it is evident, ap- 
plies to all the aesthetic ideas. The principal aesthetic ideas are 
the Beautiful, the Sublime, and the Ludicrous; and all of these 
are matters of taste. It has been customary to define taste as ap- 
plied to the beautiful and sublime, omitting the humorous and 
the witty. This is evidently an error; and one that should be 
corrected. It needs as much taste to perceive and enjoy the 
humorous as the beautiful ; and a little better taste would keep 
some things that are flat and vulgar out of literature. Taste is 
the sesthetic power, and embraces all of the aesthetic ideas and 
emotions. Special attention is called to this point as it is new, 
and one that should be emphasized. 

Standard of Taste. — Man is gifted with a native taste for 
the beautiful ; he can see and appreciate the divine element of 
16* 



370 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

beauty, which the Creator has embodied in the world around 
him. The divine element in man meets and recognizes a divine 
element in nature, and comprehends and enjoys it. This natural 
endowment of taste is cultivated by the contemplation of the 
works of nature and art, and by a study of the principles or laws 
of beauty. When thus cultivated, each man becomes a critic of 
art, and can sit in criticism on the works of the artist. Personal 
peculiarities of taste allow of slight differences or preferences in 
art; but there will be a large general agreement among all 
persons of cultivated minds. If at any time, through personal 
idiosyncrasies, there seems to be opposition of taste, we appeal to 
the standard of the opinion of the majority of cultivated persons. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE INTUITIONS OP THE GOOD, OR EIGHT. 

npHE Good, or the Right, is the crowning idea of the human 
-*- soul. The three great rational ideas of the mind are the 
True, the Beautiful, and the Good. These three ideas rank in 
an ascending series, the Good or the Right standing at the sum- 
mit. We shall now enter upon the explanation of this highest 
and grandest idea. The discussion will include three things ; 
The Nature of the Idea, the Nature of the Right, and the Origin 
of the Idea. 

I. Nature of the Idea. — The idea of the Right is a cog- 
nition in relation to the actions of rational beings. As soon as 
we contemplate certain actions of a person, we immediately per- 
ceive that they contain an ethical element ; and we pronounce 
the act right or wrong accordingly. The action may be actual 
or contemplated ; it may jDertain to the present, past, or future ; 
it may be the act of a peasant, a warrior, or an emperor. In 
every case it must be the act of a rational being, for we never 
apply the idea of right and wrong to the action of a brute animal, 
or an inanimate object of nature. 

The Idea Universal. — This idea of the Right is universal. 
That it is so, is attested by the experience and productions of the 
race. All men make moral distinctions, calling one thing right 
and another wrong. No people have been found, however sunk 
in ignorance and moral degradation, that do not make moral dis- 
tinctions. The languages of all civilized and even of uncivilized 
peoples, abound in words expressing these distinctions. The lit- 
erature of the world is filled with incidents and expressions based 
on this conception ; indeed, the idea of the Right is the inspiring 
principle of poetry, fiction, and oratory. 

(371) ' 



372 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Importance of the Idea.— The idea of the Right is the most 
important conception of the human mind. By means of it, 
society is organized and held together. It is the basis of national 
life, and the foundation of law and government. Take this idea 
out of society, and man would sink below the condition of bar- 
barism; take this idea out of national life, and the state would 
become but a herd of wild animals. It builds our alms-houses, 
erects our public schools, rears our churches, gives inspiration 
and beauty to our literature, and in fact is the foundation of 
everything that gives excellence and dignity to the human race. 

The Idea of Obligation. — -There are two ideas that accom- 
pany or grow out of the idea of the Right; these are the ideas of 
obligation and of merit and demerit. The idea of obligation 
grows immediately out of the idea of the Right. As soon as we 
have cognized an action as right, we immediately have the cog- 
nition that it ought to be done ; as soon as we have cognized an 
action as wrong, there arises the idea that it ought not to be done. 
These two ideas are what we call the ideas of obligation ; they 
are the ideas of the ought and the ought not. They pertain to our 
own actions and also to the actions of others. We know we 
ought to do what we think is right, and ought not to do what we 
think is wrong. We know also that another ought to do what he 
thinks is right, and ought not to do what he thinks is wrong. 

Merit and Demerit. — Following the doing or not doing of 
an act, comes the idea of merit or demerit. When we do what 
we think is right or refrain from doing what we think is wrong, 
there arises in our mind the idea of merit. When we do what 
we know to be wrong, or refrain from doing what we think to 
be right, there arises the idea of demerit. This idea also pertains 
to both ourselves and others in relation to moral actions. We 
condemn ourselves for the neglect or violation of a moral duty ; 
we censure others for doing wrong or for failing to do right. 
The entire code of social order and government is based upon 
this idea. 

The Ethical Idea Complex. — It will thus be seen that the 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE GOOD. 373 

ethical idea is a complex one. It embraces three conceptions ; 
the right and wrong, the obligation to do the right and not do the 
wrong, and the merit or demerit of the doer of the actions. The 
ethical idea is thus a triune conception, a " three in one." In 
this respect, the idea of the Eight differs from that of Beauty, 
Space, Time, or any other of the rational ideas. 

The Might a Reality.— The Right is not merely an idea ; it 
is also a reality. There is a real right in actions, corresponding 
to our idea of the right. An action is not right or wrong merely 
because we think it to be so; we think it to be right or wrong 
because it is so. The right and wrong are realities ; they are 
essential attributes of voluntary actions. They are verities too 
that are eternal and fixed in their nature; they cannot be 
changed or annihilated. No one can make the right wrong, or 
the wrong right. To cheat and lie are ever wrong, have always 
been wrong, and will always be wrong. The time has never 
been, the time will never be, when it will be noble to lie and 
cheat ; and when to tell the truth and be honest will be wrong. 
Eight and wrong are eternal and immutable verities. 

Origin of the Idea.— The idea of the right is the product of 
the intuition. It is not a conception put into the mind from 
without ; it is not a development from sensations of the agreeable 
and disagreeable, nor a product of our selfish instincts. It comes 
welling up from the depths of the soul when the proper occasion 
is presented. Given an example of the action of one rational 
being towards another, and there arises immediately in the mind 
the idea of the rightness or wrongness of this action. The 
physical eye sees the action ; but by the eye of intuition Ave per- 
ceive an ethical element in the action by which we pronounce it 
a right or a wrong action. 

II. Nature of the Eight.— The question in what the right 
consists, what it is that makes a thing right, has often been dis- 
cussed. This is a difficult question, and one upon which writers 
widely differ. The principal theories in respect to the question 
are,— Highest Happiness, Expediency, Legal Enactment, Divine 
Law, the Divine Nature, and the Eternal Nature of Things. 



874 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Highest Happiness. — It has been held by some writers that 
the ground, of the right is in its securing the highest happiness of 
the individual. Any action which contributes to the highest 
happiness of a person is right, and it is so merely because it does 
thus contribute to his happiness. Anything which detracts from 
man's happiness is wrong, and it is so merely because it dimin- 
ishes his enjoyment. Happiness, or the welfare of the individual, 
is the test of moral actions, and determines all the moral quality 
that they possess. This theory in different forms was held by 
Paley and others. 

Objection. — The objection to this view is that it makes virtue 
and happiness identical, and thus contradicts the consciousness 
of mankind. Every one distinguishes between that which gives 
pleasure, and that which is right. Men often do the right be- 
cause it is right, even at the sacrifice of happiness. Further, the 
theory takes away all absolute quality of the right. If that 
which gives happiness is right, the right becomes as variable as 
our tastes for enjoyment. If lying and cheating would contribute 
to the pleasure or welfare of a person, according to this theory 
lying and cheating would be right, and truth and honesty would 
be wrong. 

Theory of Utility. — Several thinkers incline to the theory 
that the essence of the right is found in the principle of utility. 
That which is best adapted to the welfare of man is right, and is 
so because it is best adapted to his welfare. It is not mere hap- 
piness, for that which leads to enjoyment may be of real disad- 
vantage; but that which, all things considered, will secure the 
best interests of the individual and the race. Taking a broad 
view of the world, it has been seen that some things will aid the 
progress of the race, and lift it up into a higher civilization ; 
such things are pronounced to be right, and are so because they 
accomplish this result. The opposite things are wrong, and are 
so because they retard the progress of the race. Thus utility or 
expediency is the ground and essence of the right. This seems 
to be the view of Mill and some other writers. 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE GOOD. 375 

Objection. — It is admitted that the right secures the best in- 
terests of the individual and the race. But to give this as the 
source of the right is to invert the true relation of cause and 
effect, calling the effect the cause. The true relation is that cer- 
tain actions secure the best interests of the race because they are 
right, and not that they are right because they accomplish this 
object. Again, as applied to the individual, this theory makes 
duty and self-interest identical, and this contradicts human con- 
sciousness. It would also make the right variable, for the best 
interests of two individuals under different circumstances might 
seem to be secured by different or even opposite actions. So in 
respect to the community, we cannot always know what will se- 
cure the best interests of society and the state, and thus we could 
not determine what is right or wrong. Besides, it contradicts 
consciousness, for we do not thus stop to reason about the matter, 
but decide instantly whether a thing is right or wrong. 

Legal Enactment. — The ground of right has also been 
placed in legal enactments. The law requires certain actions; 
these we regard as right : the law prohibits certain actions ; these 
we regard as wrong. The civil authority is ultimate ; man can- 
not go back of the law; his only duty is to obey. The law 
makes the right and wrong of things, and is the ultimate ethical 
principle. This view was held by Hobbes and by some of the 
ancient sophists. 

Objection. — This theory destroys all fixedness in the standard 
of right. By it the right varies as the law varies. The law 
commands one thing to-day, and another thing to-morrow ; so one 
thing is right to-day, and another thing to-morrow. Laws have 
changed from age to age, so the right must have also changed. 
By this theory, also, all laws are right, and no law can be wrong, 
so that we could never sit in judgment upon a law. While a 
statute is before a legislature for its action, it may be pronounced 
wrong; but as soon as it is voted upon and becomes a law r , it 
immediately becomes right ! By this theory it also follows that 
all laws are equally right. The laws of Draco are as good as 



376 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

those of Solon or Lycurgus ; the edicts of Nero are as excellent 
as those of Constantine ! The boundary line of a country is the 
boundary of right and wrong ; step over the line that divides 
two countries, and you change right to wrong and wrong to 
right ! 

The Will of God. — Some excellent thinkers place the right 
in the revealed voill of God. What God wills is the ultimate 
right, and is so because he wills it. What is contrary to his will 
is wrong, and is wrong because it is contrary to his will. This 
view was held by Descartes and others. Paley regarded it as 
the rule of right, though not the ground of right. 

Objections. — There .are apparent objections to this theory. If 
the right originates in the will of God, and was not right before 
he willed it, then if we suppose his will to change, we must sup- 
pose the right to change. Further, had there been no revelation 
of his will, then there would have been no right and wrong. 
And if there was any mistake or misunderstanding as to the rev- 
elation of his will, right and wrong would not be the same. 
Again, we could not say of the law of God that it is good, for to 
say that his statutes are just and true, would be merely to say 
that his statutes are his statutes. Again, it Avould prevent us 
from attributing to Deity any mora^ character. "Holy, holy, 
holy, Lord God," "just and true are thy ways," would have no 
meaning to us except that his actions are true to his will. 

The Nature of God. — It is held by some writers that the 
right lies in the nature and character of God. God is, and the 
right is because God is as he is. The wrong is that which is con- 
trary to the nature of God. This view was held by Dr. Chal- 
mers and by some other writers. 

Objections. — To this view several objections have been pre- 
sented. First, it is said, if God had been other than he is, the 
right would be other than it is. Second, if right and wrong de- 
pend on the nature of God, then if we could suppose God to 
change, the right and wrong would also change ; and thus virtue 
would become vice and vice would become virtue. Third, by 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE GOOD. 377 

this theory it is a mere meaningless tautology to apply the terms 
holy, righteous, etc., to God, as they are a part of his nature, and 
have their existence only in his nature. Of course, it must be 
admitted that it is as easy to conceive of right and wrong chang- 
ing, as to conceive of God changing, or being other than he is. 

Nature of Things. — This theory holds that right and wrong 
exist in the very nature of things. They are self-existent, inde- 
pendent, and immutable. They have no origin ; they are as 
eternal as God himself. Were it possible for God to cease to 
exist, right and wrong would still exist; were it possible for God 
to change, right and wrong would still be unchanged. Deity does 
not make them, and he has no power to change them. Law does 
not produce the right, but all good laws are in accordance with 
the right. The act is not right because it secures happiness, but 
it secures happiness because it is right. The right is right be- 
cause it is right ; we cannot get back of the right and find any- 
thing that makes it right. 

Objections. — To this theory objections have also been made. 
Dr. Gregory says that " This view is at once contrary to the true 
conception of God and the constitution of things. It originates 
in the attempt to understand the ' Almighty unto perfection,' and 
to measure completely this universal system with the yardstick 
of man's reason. According to this hypothesis, there is some- 
thing back of God which shapes all his co\irse in spite of him- 
self — a modern fate. The Deity becomes a mere figure-head in 
the universe. . . . God is at least as eternal and immutable as 
morality. There is no notion of things except that which God has 
constituted." 

The Correct Theory. — It is probably correct to say that 
right and wrong are ultimate principles. It is impossible to 
separate them from the nature of God, since he is also eternal 
and immutable. They have their source in the nature of God 
and the nature of things ; or they are co-existent with God and 
the universe. We cannot conceive either God or the right to 
change ; they are both eternal and immutable ; neither was be- 



378 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

fore the other ; neither was created, and neither can be destroyed. 
The right is thus wrapped up, as it were, in the nature of God 
and the universe. Logically it is distinct from the character and 
actions of God, so that we may sit in judgment upon his laws 
and predicate holiness of his nature and actions. We can thus 
see a meaning in the expressions " Shall not the Judge of all the 
earth do right?" and " The law of the Lord is perfect." 

III. Origin of the Idea.- — Another question extensively dis- 
cussed by philosophers is that of the origin of the idea of the 
right. Whence comes this idea? how does it originate in the 
mind? To this question many different answers have been given. 
The question is closely related to that of the nature of the right, 
and by some writers has been confounded with it, though there is 
an essential difference between them. The one is what makes a 
thing right; the other is how do we come by the idea of the right. 
Some of the principal theories of the origin of the idea will be 
stated. 

Education. — It is held by some writers that the idea of the 
right is the product of education. The theory holds that origi- 
nally man had no idea of the right, that he is not competent to 
develop such an idea, but that it is put into his mind by the pro- 
cess of education. He is taught to call some things right and 
other things Avrong, and thus learns to make moral distinctions. 
This view seems to be held by Paley, Locke, and some other 
thinkers. 

Objections. — To this view it may be objected, first, that educa- 
tion will not account for the origin of the idea. Education 
merely gives shape and development to the idea already in the 
mind. Secondly, education in respect to the right presupposes 
the idea already existing, for where did the educators receive the 
idea which they impart? Besides, if these ideas are the result 
of education, it follows that our moral distinctions have no fixed 
character, but vary with our education, and that we could be 
educated to believe the right to be wrong and the wrong to be 
right, which we maintain is not possible. 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE GOOD. 379 

Legal Enactment. — It is held by some thinkers that the 
ideas of the right are the result of legal enactment. This theory 
assumes that man naturally has no ideas of right or wrong, and 
that he is incapable of making these moral distinctions. He 
comes in contact with law, either human or divine, becomes 
familiar with its commands and restrictions, and learns to think 
some things right and other things wrong. In this way the idea 
of the right is developed in his mind, and he learns to make 
moral distinctions. This is the theory of Hobbes. 

Objections. — The objections to this theory are about the same 
as those which apply to the theory of education. First, law pre- 
supposes the idea of the right in the lawgiver, and hence does not 
account for its origin. Besides, this theory would make our ideas 
of the right vary as the laws of a country vary. If the law re- 
quired the opposite of Avhat it now requires, that opposite we 
would regard as right and the present right as wrong ! We have 
only to step across the' boundaries of a country to change our 
ideas of right and wrong ! The absurdity of the conclusion 
seems to be a sufficient refutation of the doctrine. If we refer 
the idea to divine law, we remove the question from philosophy 
and hand it over to theology, which is not in the correct spirit of 
philosophy. Still, we believe that man can judge of the Tight- 
ness of divine law ; and the Bible represents God as treating 
man as if he had this power. 

Theory of Association. — The theory of association assumes 
also that man's mind is morally a blank, and that the moral 
nature is developed from sensations or feelings. Some of our 
feelings are pleasant and become associated with the acts which 
produced them ; and such acts we call good. Some of our feel- 
ings are unpleasant, and these become associated with actions 
that produce them ; and we learn to call such actions bad or 
wrong. Thus, suppose a man does something to me to make me 
feel happy, and I say " good feeling." Associating this with the 
person, I say " good person that caused good feeling ; " and pass- 
ing from the person to the action, I say "good action of good 



380 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

person that caused good feeling." In the same way we may ac- 
count for the idea of the bad or wrong, associating the bad feel- 
ing first- with the actor and then with his act. In both cases, the 
feeling is transferred to and associated with the actor and his 
action ; and Ave thus learn to make moral distinctions independ- 
ently of our feelings. This is in principle the view of Hume, 
Mill, and others of the sensational school. 

Objections. — There are several objections to this ingenious 
theory. First, the theory of association overthrows the inherent 
distinctions of right and wrong, and makes virtue and vice the 
creations of the sensibilities, the products of the feelings. Second, 
it contradicts the order of psychological operations, in which we 
have first the cognition and then the feeling. Third, it makes 
morality merely relative, having no absolute existence, but a 
variable affair as our feelings may vary. Fourth, it also contra- 
dicts the facts of consciousness and experience, as we often find 
ourselves and others making moral distinctions before there is 
time for the complicated process of transferring our feelings. 
Besides, our ideas of the right and our feelings of pleasure are 
often the reverse of one another ; and this could not be if the idea 
of the right were a transfer of feeling. 

Theory of Sympathy. — Another theory is that the. idea of 
right and wrong originates from the principle of sympathy. 
Sympathy is a spontaneous activity of the sensibilities. Sym- 
pathy with the feelings of an actor, and also with the feelings of 
one towards whom the act is performed, leads us to approve or 
disapprove the act. Sympathy with the gratitude of one who has 
received a favor leads us to regard the benefaction as right; 
sympathy with the resentment of one who has been wronged 
leads us to regard the act as wrong and the actor as worthy of 
punishment. Sympathy with the. feelings of others in respect to 
our own actions, or of an imagined spectator of them, gives rise 
to self-approval or condemnation, and the sense of duty. The 
summary of these sentiments and the judgments derived from 
them gives the rules of morality. This is the celebrated theory 
of Adam Smith. 



THE INTUITION'S OF THE GOOD. 381 

Objections. — The objections to this theory are the same as to 
that of association. First, it makes right and wrong merely 
relative, depending on the feelings of others and on our feelings 
of sympathy, both of which are changeable, and thus may change 
our ideas of right and wrong. Second, it gives no imperative 
character to the moral cognition ; it carries with it no idea of 
moral obligation. Third, the view is not sustained by conscious- 
ness; we are not conscious of deriving our moral ideas in this 
manner; we are conscious of making moral distinctions inde- 
pendent of and even contrary to our sympathies. We sympathize 
with a criminal, but know that it is right to punish him. 

Theory of Bain. — Alexander Bain, one of the most distin- 
guished philosophers of the sensational school, derives the idea of 
the Right from the two principles, — Sympathy and Prudence, or 
Self-love. The objection to the element of sympathy has already 
been stated in the reply to the views of Adam Smith. To the 
element of self-love, or highest happiness, it may be objected that 
it would make the right and wrong variable, — as what affords 
happiness to one person does not always give happiness to 
another. Besides, we are conscious that what brings most happi- 
ness is not always right. A thief knows that it is wrong to steal, 
and yet his booty gives him pleasure so long as the law does not 
arrest and punish him. Again, a good man frequently sacrifices 
his desire of happiness to his sense of duty. Men suffer and die 
for the right ; not because suffering and death give them pleasure, 
but because they are true to their principles or their faith. If it 
be said that a Christian is willing to suffer here in order to secure 
future happiness, we reply that an infidel, who has no belief in 
the future, may stand true to his sense of duty against all the 
promptings of self-interest. It seems a shallow philosophy to re- 
solve our convictions of duty into our desires for happiness. 

A Moral Sense. — Some writers hold that man has a moral 
sense by which he perceives the right and wrong. As we have 
the sense of sight by which we perceive color, and the sense of 
hearing by which we perceive sound, so we have a sense whose 



382 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

office it is to perceive moral distinctions or ethical qualities in 
actions. This theory was suggested by Shaftesbury, and de- 
veloped by Hutcheson. 

Object ions.— There are serious objections to this theory. First, 
the term " moral sense " is ambiguous. If it means a sense like 
sight and hearing, then it is positively absurd, for there is no. 
such organ of sense in the body, like the eye or ear, for moral 
perceptions. Second, if it means some function of the sensibilities, 
a susceptibility of the emotional nature by which we feel the right 
and wrong, it is also incorrect ; for this would make morality a 
mere sentiment, a mere subjective affection, similar to sound and 
color, which are mere sensations. Third, it would make morality 
merely relative, and not a real quality of actions. Plight and 
wrong, virtue and vice, justice and injustice, would lie merely in 
our feelings, and have no objective and independent existence. 
If by moral sense, we mean a power by which the mind cognizes 
right and wrong, then the view is not incorrect, though the term 
" moral sense " is inappropriate. 

The Correct View. — The correct view of the origin of the 
idea is that which we have already presented. The idea of the 
right is an intuition ; it is the product of the reason. It springs 
up spontaneously in the mind on the contemplation of moral 
actions. We find ourselves, from earliest childhood, making 
moral judgments; and a moral judgment involves an ethical 
idea. This idea must precede and be the basis of a moral judg- 
ment. This is the opinion of Kant, Coleridge, and the most of 
our modern thinkers, except those of materialistic views. 

Idea Modified. — The idea of the right is modified by all the 
influences which are referred to in the other theories. Thus 
education, law, association, sympathy, etc., all modify these ideas 
and the application of them. Perhaps, too, the principle of 
heredity, recently introduced into the question by the theory of 
evolution, should also be taken into account as a modifying 
influence. But this modification is quite a different matter from 
the origination of the idea, and cannot account for the existence 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE GOOD. 383 

of the original cognition of the right. To modify and shape an 
idea already existing is quite a different thing from the origina- 
tion of this idea. 

The Nature of Conscience. 

The moral nature of man is usually treated under the term 
Conscience, and we now proceed to inquire what is meant by 
Conscience. The term conscience has been used in various 
senses by different writers. Some make conscience entirely intel- 
lectual, others purely emotional, and others again partly intel- 
lectual and partly emotional. In order to determine precisely 
what is meant by conscience, we shall call attention to the ele- 
ments involved in the moral sense. A careful analysis will show 
that there are two elements, an intellectual and an emotional 
element. 

Intellectual Element. — In contemplating the actions of 
rational beings, several cognitions arise in the mind. First, there 
is the cognition of the rightness or wrongness of the act. This 
cognition of the right is immediately followed by another cog- 
nition, that of obligation; we realize that we ought to do the act 
which we cognize as right, and ought not to do the act which we 
cognize as wrong. This is the. idea of obligation, the idea of the 
ought and the ought not. This idea of obligation is immediately 
followed by a third cognition, that of merit or demerit, merit in 
doing the right and demerit in doing the wrong. The doer of 
the right is regarded as virtuous, and is approved ; the doer of 
the wrong is regarded as sinful, and is condemned. Here are 
three distinct and allied cognitions with respect to a moral action, 
each attended by a corresponding judgment. 

Emotional Element. — Each one of these three cognitions is 
attended with an act of the sensibilities. The pure cognitions 
of the right and wrong are accompanied by a slight feeling of 
pleasure or its opposite. The cognition of obligation to do or 
not to do is immediately followed by a strong feeling of obligation 
to do or not to do. The idea of merit or demerit attaching to 



384 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

the actor awakens two deep and kindred feelings. First, we have 
a feeling of complacency when we have done right, and a feeling 
of remorse when we have done wrong. Second, we have a feeling 
of approval of the right actions of another, and a feeling of dis- 
approval of his wrong actions. 

Melation of these Elements. — Both of these elements, the 
intellectual and emotional, are involved in what we call our 
moral sense. There are three distinct cognitions; and each of 
these is attended with the corresponding emotion. The feeling 
growing out of the cognition of right and wrong is not very 
prominent as compared with the other feelings, and need not be 
particularly noticed. The feelings growing out of the second 
and third cognitions are deep and moving, and so strong some- 
times as to conceal or eclipse the cognitions, so that these elements 
are often spoken of as mere feelings. The second and third cog- 
nitions apply both to ourselves and to others, are both subjective 
and objective, and the corresponding emotions refer also to our- 
selves and to others. 

What is Conscience ? — Now, what is Conscience ? Having 
seen the elements embraced in the moral sense, we inquire how 
many of these are included in what we call conscience. Is con- 
science purely intellectual, is it purely emotional, or is it partly 
intellectual and partly emotional ? If intellectual and emotional, 
does conscience perceive the right ? or does it begin its operations 
after the cognition of the right and wrong, and include only the 
two cognitions of obligation and merit or demerit, with the cor- 
responding emotions ? In other words, is the office of cognizing 
the right included in conscience, or does its office begin after this 
cognition ? 

Answer of the Question. — Upon these questions philosophy 
seems not to be quite settled. Locke says, " Conscience is merely 
our judgment of the moral rectitude or turpitude of our actions." 
St. Augustine says, " It is a particular manner of feeling which 
corresponds to the goodness of moral actions." Dr. Crombie says 
that the office of conscience is " to approve of our own conduct 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE GOOD. 385 

when we do what we believe to be right, and to censure us when 
we commit whatever we judge to be wrong." Rev. Joseph Cook 
seems to restrict the action of conscience to the motive, defining 
it as "the power which determines the moral qualities of a 
motive." He says, "Conscience is the perception of right or 
wrong in motives, and a feeling that the right ought and the 
wrong ought not to be chosen by the will." 

The Correct View. — Among so many different and conflict- 
ing views, it is a difficult and delicate matter to decide. One 
thing, I think, is clear ; the power of conscience is partly intel- 
lectual and partly emotional. Another point seems evident, that 
one of the most prominent elements is that of the ought and the 
ought not, and the corresponding ideas of merit and demerit 
These ideas are accompanied by their corresponding feelings, 
which seem also to be. elements of conscience. If this is so, would 
it not be best to leave the cognition of the right by the reason 
outside of the sphere embraced by the term conscience ? Espe- 
cially so, also, since we so often see men equally conscientious in 
the discharge of their duty, who take such different views of what 
is right. This is the decision to which a very careful considera- 
tion of the subject has led me. 

Definition of Conscience. — Conscience is the power by which 
we know and feel that we ought to do what we think to be right, 
and ought not to do what we think to be wrong. It also cognizes 
merit and demerit, feels satisfaction for virtuous conduct and re- 
morse for guilt in respect to our own actions, and approves or 
disapproves the actions of others. By this view conscience cog- 
nizes the ought and the ought not and the merit and demerit of 
actions. It also feels the ought and ought not, and experiences the 
emotions corresponding with the ideas of merit and demerit, with 
respect both to ourselves and to others. 

Nature of this View. — In this view of conscience the element 

omitted is that of the cognition or apprehension of the rightness 

of any given action. This cognition is left to the reason, where 

it actually belongs ; as it is a rational cognition, whether we 

17 



386 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

bring it under the conscience or not. This view of conscience 
removes several difficulties that have been inseparably connected 
with its use and philosophical discussion. If any one teaching or 
studying this work, thinks it would be better to include the ele- 
ment of the cognition of the right in the conscience, the definition 
can easily be modified so as to embrace it. 

Nature of Ethics. — This view of conscience gives it a distinct 
and definite place in the science of Ethics. The science of ethics 
is in some respects similar to that of geometry. In geometry we 
have first an intuitive idea of extension ; then the intuitions of 
special forms of extension, as a line, a circle, etc. ; then we have 
intuitive truths called axioms ; and then, by reasoning from these 
intuitive truths, we reach the conclusions or theorems of the sci- 
ence. So in ethics we have a similar combination of ideas and 
truths. First, we have the general idea of the right. Second, 
we have an idea of particular forms of the right ; as, veracity, 
honesty, etc. Third, we have certain axiomatic principles, 
as "to tell the truth is right," "to cheat is wrong," etc., which 
may be called moral axioms. From these as a basis we can derive 
other truths, and thus build up the science of ethics. Of course 
the demonstrations and applications of the principles of right are 
much more difficult than the reasoning of geometry, because the 
right is often so complex as involved in the circumstances. 

Relation of Conscience. — This perception of the right and 
the unfolding of the science by judgment and reasoning do not 
belong to conscience ; they are acts of the reason and understand- 
ing. Following these conceptions and axioms and demonstra- 
tions comes the action of conscience. Knowing what is right, 
conscience urges us to do the right and to avoid the wrong. The 
conscientious man is not one who has the clearest apprehension 
of the right or who can reason best in respect to it ; but one who 
is most anxious to follow the dictates of his judgment and to do 
what he believes to be right. The ignorant man who has very 
narrow ideas of duty, the bigot who can see only one path of rec- 
titude — these may be as truly conscientious as the most enlight- 
ened and broadest-minded Christian. 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE GOOD. 387 

Diversity of Moral Judgments. — This view of conscience 
accounts satisfactorily for the diversity of moral judgments. 
This diversity may result from any one of several causes. Men 
may not see the action under the same circumstances or relations, 
and thus not be in the condition to make the same cognition in 
respect to its ethical quality. Or, they may not reason in the 
same way, and thus make a different application of the funda- 
mental principles of right and wrong, and hence reach different 
conclusions. In both cases they may be equally conscientious in 
respect to doing what they think to be right, or in avoiding what 
they think to be wrong. The difference is not in their consciences, 
but in their perception of the right. 

Extent of this Difference. — These differences in the percep- 
tion or cognition of what is right are often very marked. Thus 
what one approves another often condemns. The Spartans taught 
their boys that it was right to steal, provided they were not de- 
tected in it. The savage seems to think it is right to scalp his 
enemy, and even roast and eat him. The very crimes of one 
people may be the religious rites of another people. These dif- 
ferences, however, are easily accounted for. In many cases, cer- 
tain acts are mere habits, done without any thought of right or 
wrong. In other cases, a misconception of one duty overshadows 
another duty, as in the case of sacrificing human lives to the 
gods. Believing such sacrifices commanded, the heathen surren- 
der a lower duty to a higher one. The idea of the right is often 
so involved in circumstances that it is difficult to obtain a clear 
notion of it, and to see the act in its own light and judge it ac- 
cordingly. 

A General Uniformity. — The difference in the perception 
of the right, however, is not so great as may appear at first 
thought. There is really a general uniformity in the moral per- 
ceptions of mankind. In the cognition of the fundamental prin- 
ciples of right and wrong, and the application of those principles 
to the ordinary actions of mankind, there is very little disagree- 
ment. All people agree that to tell the truth is right, and to lie 



388 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

is wrong; that honesty is right, and fraud is wrong; that deeds 
of kindness are right, and murder is wrong. They may differ in 
the application of these principles, as they do in the application 
of other principles ; and the occasion for difference is greater here 
than in most other subjects, as the right is involved in more 
complicated circumstances than any other idea or attribute. 

The Relation of Motive, — For the actions of each individual, 
the motive determines the right. If we do what we conscien- 
tiously think to be right, that to us is right — or, at least, we are 
innocent of doing wrong. This makes a distinction known as 
the absolute and the relative right. According to this distinction, 
a person may do an act which is contrary to the absolute prin- 
ciples of right, and yet not be guilty of doing wrong. The act 
may be relatively right to him, though absolutely wrong. Thus 
a man may tell that which is absolutely false, and yet, supposing 
it to-be true and designing to tell the truth, it is not a falsehood 
to him. He is not guilty of deception, but is only mistaken. So 
a-man may take the life of another by accident, and though he 
has actually broken the law which says " Thou shalt not kill," he 
is not guilty of murder. This distinction, that the motive decides 
the moral quality of an action, is acknowledged by nearly every 
class of thinkers; though it is a principle that must be applied 
with caution, as it may lead to dangerous conclusions in ethics. 

Is Conscience a Safe Guide ? — The question, Is conscience 
a safe guide? should be answered according 'to our conception of 
conscience, and our idea of a safe guide. If we take the view of 
conscience, that it begins with the cognition of obligation, and 
does not include the cognition of the right itself, then it is always 
a safe and a correct guide. If conscience is regarded as a power 
that perceives the right, then it is not always a correct guide, for 
men often err in their moral perceptions and judgments. If in 
the expression a " safe guide " we do not mean a correct guide, 
then we may say that even according to this latter view of con- 
science, it is a safe guide. The man who follows his conscience 
is usually in the path of duty. Indeed, it would be a strange 



THE INTUITIONS OF THE GOOD. 389 

rule of morals to advise that a man should not follow his con- 
science. 

A Correct Conscience. — The conscientious man should be 
careful to see that his idea of right is correct. A man is often 
responsible for his mistakes in moral judgment. Paul, who 
thought he ought to do many things contrary to Jesus of Naz- 
areth, is a notable example of a conscientious man who did what 
he afterward believed to be Avrong. His error lay, not in follow- 
ing his conscience, but in not examining the teachings of Christ 
more carefully, and forming a correct judgment in respect to 
His doctrine. A conscientious man is thus often responsible for 
his erroneous opinions of duty. He* has neglected to investigate 
the matter as he should have done ; and should be held respon- 
sible for this neglect, and for the error in his moral perceptions 
flowing from it. So also is the man responsible who confounds 
his conscience with his feelings, and does what he thinks is right, 
which is really what he feels is agreeable. The conscientious 
man should be as careful in determining what is right as he is in 
following the right after he decides what it is. Conscience thus 
applies to the forming of moral judgments, as well as to doing 
moral actions. 



CHAPTER V. 

CULTURE OF THE INTUITIONS OF THE TRUE. 

PT^HE Reason, or Intuitive Power, is the crowning element of 
J- the human mind. Here we rise into the sphere of ration- 
ality, and conceive of man as a centre and source of eternal and 
necessary truth. From the .depths of the spiritual nature come 
welling up ideas and thoughts which glow, like the pearls of the 
ocean, with an immortal radiance. The reason arches over the 
other faculties of the mind, as the blue sky arches over the earth; 
and in it shine the golden stars of eternal and heaven-born 
truth. 

Difficult of Culture. — This faculty is not only higher than all 
the other faculties of the mind, but its training and culture are 
more difficult. The other faculties are developed by exercise ; this 
faculty is not under the control of the will, like judgment or 
memory, and is therefore not so readily brought into exercise. 
The intuitive faculty is not so much an activity as a spontaneity ; 
and it is thus developed naturally by its own spontaneous evo- 
lution of ideas and truths. The most we can do for its culture is 
to furnish the occasion for the cognition of truth, and by such 
cognitions its eye becomes brighter and its vision clearer and 
stronger. 

It Can he Cultured. — The faculty of Reason, though spon- 
taneous in its actions, will however admit of culture. It begins 
its operations early in life ; though there is a vast difference be- 
tween the intuitions of childhood and of manhood. The cognition 
of truth by the adult mind is much clearer and higher than that 
of the child mind. There is also a large difference between the 
intuitive cognitions of the ignorant, uncultured savage, and of the 

( 390 ) 



THE CULTURE OF THE TEUE. 391 

refined and cultured philosopher. The study and attainment of 
truth, the grasp of philosophical principles, and the refinements 
of thought and feeling of a civilized life, have given the occasions 
by which the insight of the reason into truth is much deeper, and 
its grasp of intuitive ideas much broader. 

Methods of Culture. — The manner of giving culture to this 
faculty is intimated in this statement. The eye of intuition grows 
clear with the development of the human mind; hence all 
mental development tends to develop the reason. It evolves its 
ideas and truths on the presentation of suitable occasions ; hence 
the occasions for its activity should be frequently presented. 
The familiarity with truth of all kinds, by its refining and elevat- 
ing influence on the soul, gives deeper insight into the funda- 
mental principles of truth; therefore all philosophic and thought 
culture will tend to give culture to the reason. 

Divisions for Culture. — All the products of the reason may 
be embraced under three general heads, the True, the Beautiful, 
and the Good. The products under each one of these heads are 
of two classes, ideas and thoughts. Each intuitive truth in vol ses 
one or more intuitive ideas, and grows out of these ideas: the 
idea is the basis of the truth, and gives rise to it. We shall 
therefore restrict the discussion mainly to the development of 
these ideas, as the truths will naturally follow the ideas. The 
culture of the intuitive power thus naturally divides itself into 
three general divisions ; the culture of the Intuitions of the True, 
the culture of- the Intuitions of the Beautiful, and the culture of 
the Intuitions of the Good. Though shrinking from the attempt 
to give any discussion of the cultivation of this divine faculty, 
which needs the pen of inspiration to treat it properly, I shall 
present a few suggestions for its culture under the three heads 
named. In this chapter I shall treat briefly of the culture of the 
Intuitions of the True. 

Intuitions of the True. — The ideas of the True are those of 
Space, Time, Number, Identity, Cause, Infinity, etc. These ideas 
spring up early in the mind on the presentation of suitable occa- 



392 CENTAL SCIENCE. 

sions, and but little direct effort need be made for their culture. 
Clearer and more definite conceptions of these ideas will be ob- 
tained, however, by their frequent contemplation and an attempt 
to analyze or define them. The general principle for their de- 
velopment is that suitable occasions be presented for the reason 
to unfold them. Questions by the teacher on their nature will 
aid the pupil in a fuller and clearer development of these ideas 
and a better comprehension of their nature. 

Intuition of Space. — The intuition of Space arises early in 
the mind. The first perception of it is in the concrete ; that is, 
in connection with material objects occupying space. Through 
touch we cognize an extended body capable of resistance, and 
through the eye we see an extended and colored surface. The 
idea of space, however, is not given by the sense, but by the eye 
of intuition, that lies back of and works with the eye of sense. 
The perception of space in objects is merely the occasion by which 
the general idea of space is unfolded from the mind. The early 
appearance of the idea in the mind suggests the early study of 
geometry by the child. The study of geometrical figures will 
accustom the mind to pass from the conception of occupied to 
unoccupied or pure space, and will enable it to conceive of the 
possible forms of space. Questions on the nature of space, on 
the truths that arise out of the conception, and on its importance, 
will also be appropriate. 

Intuition of Time. — The intuition of Time is also early de- 
veloped in the mind. Its basis is the successive experiences of 
consciousness in the succession of events. We perceive events 
as before and after ; and though we have no sense-perception of 
time, the idea arises spontaneously in the mind through the ex- 
perience. Time is necessary in the conception of events as suc- 
cessive; hence the idea first appears in the concrete, associated 
with events. We can, however, think of the time as different 
from the event which occurred in time, and thus attain to the 
true or abstract notion of time. The element of time in the con- 
crete event is given, not by sense, but by intuition ; we see the 



THE CULTURE OF THE TEUE. o9o 

event as external, and the mind supplies the element of time. 
Subsequently intuition lifts up the idea out of all sense connec- 
tion, and thinks of it as the grand condition of events, without 
beginning or end. A few examples and questions may aid this 
development; but nature takes care of herself in this higher 
activity of the soul. It will be suitable, however, to lead the 
pupil to a clearer appreciation of the infinitude of time, — a cog- 
nition incomprehensible, but necessary and uncontradictable. 

Intuition of Number. — The intuition of Number is also an 
early conception of the mind. The mind sees the objects through 
the sense; and in connection with this sense-experience there 
springs up in the mind the idea of the one and the many, of unity 
and plurality. All the difFerent numbers are thus the products 
of intuition. These ideas arise first in the concrete ; we begin by 
numbering objects. The mind then withdraws this idea from its 
idea of objects, and thus number in the abstract becomes a dis- 
tinct cognition of the soul. The only suggestion for the culture 
of intuition in this respect is to furnish the occasion for the 
operation of the intuitive power. The grasp of numbers can, of 
course, be largely increased by practice and study ; and the study 
of the science of numbers gives increased breadth and clearness 
to our numerical cognitions. 

Intuition of Cause, — The intuition of Cause also makes an 
early appearance in the mind. The little child's questions, — 
What makes this? and What makes that? — show that it very 
soon perceives the relation of cause and effect. The idea is not 
the result of philosophy, for it is as strong among savages as 
among civilized men. As previously shown, it is not merely the 
perception of antecedence and consequence, for no number of 
such relations, however invariable, will give the idea of cause. 
The idea springs up native in the mind on the perception of 
change or the appearance of an event. As soon as we see some 
change take place or something come into being, we immediately 
look for the cause which produced the change or effected the re- 
sult. Thus sensible experience is the occasion of the origin of 
17* 



394 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

the idea; and therefore, in order to develop it, suitable occasions 
must be presented to the mind. The study of a branch like 
natural philosophy will tend to increase our grasp upon the 
notion of causation, and enable us to distinguish between the 
several kinds of cause. The mind may also be led along the 
chain of causation, until it reaches the idea of a First Cause and 
the logical necessity of its existence. 

Intuition of Identity. — The intuition of Identity is not so 
easily developed in the mind, at least as a definite and clear cog- 
nition. It arises from the perception and comparison of objects. 
It is preceded, I think, by the ideas of difference and similarity ; 
and from these the mind gradually passes to the notion of same- 
ness or identity. From the identity of objects it passes to the 
conception of personal identity, or the sameness of the spirit. 
The mind has before it at every wakening moment, a cognition 
of a present self, and in the exercise of memory, a past self; and 
it knows that these belong to the same one self. Though the 
idea is slowly developed, the mind unconsciously acts in the light 
of it before it is clearly cognized as an idea. We do not mistake 
ourselves for some other person, nor confound our parents with 
the people around them ; the idea is thus potentially active in us, 
regulating our conduct, even before it is distinctly apprehended 
as a cognition. All that can be done for its development is to 
supply the conditions for its appearance in the mind. 

Other Intuitive Ideas. — There are other intuitive cognitions, 
as Equality, Power, Substance, Being, Whole and Parts, which 
we have not space to consider. These are developed in a manner 
similar to those already discussed. The presentation of suitable 
occasions, and the asking of appropriate questions, will enable the 
reason to unfold these ideas which are the condition and source 
of all thought and experience. 

Intuitive Truths. — The Intuitive Truths are too numerous 
to mention in detail. They accompany every one of the intuitive 
ideas, some giving more and others less of these truths. The 
most numerous are those of number and space; and the student 



THE CULTURE OF THE TRUE. 395 

gets culture in the development of these truths by the study of 
arithmetic and geometry. In mathematics we have two classes 
of intuitive truths, called axioms ; those which pertain to quantity 
in general, and those which belong to specific forms of quantity. 
Of the former class we may name " Things Avhich are equal to 
the same thing are equal to each other." Under the second class 
we name "Only similar numbers can be added," which belongs 
to arithmetic; and "All right angles are equal," which belongs 
to geometry. In the development of these sciences each new re- 
lation or conception of quantity is attended with some new truth 
of intuition. These truths are developed in the mind by the 
presentation of the proper occasion ; and when they are somewhat 
recondite, their appearance may be aided by suitable illustra- 
tions. 

Study of Science. — The cognition of the True is developed by 
the study of science. Science discovers truth ; but intuition per- 
ceives the truth of its principles. Judgment gives a proposition; 
the truth of the proposition is seen by the reason. The under- 
standing draws a conclusion from premises; intuition sees the 
truth of the derived proposition. So all science tends to brighten 
and quicken the perception of the true. Man grows in the ap- 
preciation of truth by the study of science. His soul, accustomed 
to the true, becomes wedded to truth ; his affections go out towards 
truth ; he builds his altars to the honor of truth, and becomes 
himself a worshipper of the divine attribute of truth. Familiar 
with the truths of science, his soul goes out in yearnings after the 
source of truth ; and he thus rises in his conceptions from the 
natural to the supernatural, from the truths of science to Him 
who is the essence and embodiment of infinite truth, and is thus, 
in its highest sense, The True. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE CULTURE OF THE INTUITIONS OF BEAUTY. 

THE Beautiful is a divine attribute revealed to the higher 
reason. The intuitions of the reason in the sphere of the 
Beautiful, are of three principal classes; the Beautiful proper, the 
Sublime, and the Ludicrous. Each of these three classes of ideas 
is developed by the presentation of objects containing the aesthetic 
element. A few remarks on the culture will be made, showing 
the value of the beautiful or the value of aesthetic culture, and 
methods of giving this culture. The subject may be appropriately 
entitled The Culture of Taste. 

I. Value of Beauty. — This idea of beauty is of so much 
value to mankind that a brief consideration of the influence of 
the beautiful will give significance to the discussion of its culture, 
and tend to make teachers more careful to afford this culture to 
their pupils. The facts and truths of science are not the only 
things valuable in education, though this seems to be the popular 
belief. The mind grows in the appreciation of truth by feeding 
upon the true ; but the soul has other appetites than those for 
truth. Beauty is food for the spiritual nature as well as truth ; 
and the mind develops in its communion with the spirit of beauty. 
Art is an educating influence as well as science ; and some of the 
richest products of the soul spring from the culture of the fine 
arts and the element of beauty which they embody. 

Meftnes the Mind. — Beauty refines and elevates the mind. 
The element of beauty breathes of the spirit of refinement. As 
the sunlight comes beaming out of the depths of the pure blue 
heavens, and illuminates the world, so the spirit of beauty carries 
with it purity and refinement. The mind that is susceptible to 

( 896 ) 



THE CULTURE OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 897 

the beauties of nature and art, intuitively turns away from all 
that is coarse or vulgar, and sympathizes only with that which 
is refined and elevated. " There is no more potent antidote to 
low sensuality," says Schlegel, "than the adoration of beauty." 
A taste for pictures, for poetry, for music, etc., will unfit a person 
for the enjoyment of the dirt of the drinking saloon, or the vulgar 
wit and ribald jest of the uncultured crowd. A beautiful home, 
with its refining influences, tends to infuse a spirit of refinement 
in the mind that lifts it above the grossness and coarseness of vice 
and physical indulgences. Beauty is the light of the world of 
thought and feeling; and the soul grows and refines in this light 
as the lily refines in the sunlight of day. 

A Source of Enjoyment. — Beauty is a source of enjoyment. 
One of the purest and most exquisite pleasures comes from the 
communion with the works of nature and art. The soul thrills 
with an exquisite delight as we read the tender sonnet or sublime 
epic, stand in the frescoed halls or galleries of paintings, or listen 
to the combined voices of man and instrument in the opera or 
oratorio. To one who has a heart to appreciate the productions 
of art, they are a source of the purest and highest delight that 
the human heart can experience. So also may we derive enjoy- 
ment from the beauties of nature. Here is a well-spring of joy 
which is never dry. The tender light of the auroral dawn, the 
liquid depths of the blue sky, the fleecy clouds floating above in 
wondrous variety of form, the pure white lily or blushing rose of 
the garden, the modest forget-me-not of the shady forest, the 
songs of birds trilling on the air, — all these are, to the soul that 
can feel them, the source of a pleasure beyond Avords to express. 

Adorns Loivlij Objects. — Beauty gives interest to the lowliest 
objects of life. It casts a charm around ordinary events and inci- 
dents, and plants flowers along the pathways of our daily life. 
We need not go to halls of statues and galleries of pictures to 
find this element; it is a spirit that fills the world with its 
presence. Wordsworth voiced a universal sentiment when he 
wrote "To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts 



398 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

that do often lie too deep for tears." Burns at the plow could 
find a theme for the exquisite lines on the daisy, — " Wee, modest, 
crimson-tipped flower." The cot may be never so lowly, but a 
few flowers in the window, some wreaths of autumn leaves with 
their rich colorings, and a tasteful arrangement of the rude fur- 
niture, will make it seem as attractive as the palace of a king. 
It is the mission of the beautiful to raise up the lowly things of 
life, and enrobe them with that ethereal spirit of beauty that shall 
make them a source of delight to the heart. 

Leads to Morality. — Beauty leads to morality and virtue. 
The love of beauty refines the mind and attracts it into the paths 
of purity and virtue. The perception of beauty in the physical 
world leads to a love of moral beauty ; and a love of moral beauty 
leads to virtuous actions. The mind that is susceptible to ex- 
ternal beauty, that delights in the beauty of color, form, and 
tone, will naturally be open to the influences of morality, for 
virtue is moral beauty. Conscience and taste are so related that 
they have a reciprocal influence upon each other. Many persons 
do right from the love of the beautiful which they perceive in 
moral action, aside from the incentives of moral obligation. 
" Vice is a monster of such hideous mien " that we shun it on ac- 
count of its deformity ; the goddess of virtue, radiant with celestial 
beauty, entices us into the paths of purity and holiness. Beauty 
is thus a minister of virtue, and tends to purify the heart, ennoble 
the aspirations, and dignify the life. 

An Aid to Religion. — Beauty is an aid and an incentive to 
religion. The beautiful in the world is a divine presence, and 
leads the soul toward the ineffable beauty of its author. All 
radiant with the glory of the skies, it turns the mind upward 
towards the source of eternal and heavenly beauty. The beau- 
tiful is thus one of the ladders on which the soul rises towards the 
pure and heavenly. " In days of yore," says Schiller, " nothing 
was holy but the beautiful." The mother church has understood 
this ministry of the beautiful, and employed it for deepening re- 
ligious feeling and devotion. Painting, and sculpture, and archi- 



THE CULTURE OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 399 

tecture, and poetry, and music, have all been enlisted in the 
interests of religion. It is in the service of religion, too, that art 
has achieved its highest triumphs. The* most beautiful frescos 
are those of Raphael and Michael Angelo ; the noblest specimens 
of architecture are found in the cathedrals, and the grandest 
musical compositions are the sacred fugues of Bach and the ora- 
torios of Haydn and Handel. 

Not Identical with Religion. — The Beautiful is not, how- 
ever, identical with Religion. The love of the beautiful will not, 
of itself, make us holy. Had Raphael been morally what he was 
aesthetically, even Christ himself would almost have had a rival 
in virtue. The theology of the Greeks was distinguished alike for 
its beauty and its imperfections. It presented the finest type that 
the world has known of a system of ethics founded on the beau- 
tiful, but failed because beauty and piety are not identical. 
True religion must be founded on the religious nature rather 
than on the aesthetic. Piety and beauty may, however, go hand 
in hand, for the highest beauty on earth is Christian piety. The 
noblest manhood is Christian manhood ; and the most beautiful 
womanhood is Christian womanhood. The spirit of the beautiful 
may therefore unite its attractions with the spirit of the good and 
enhance its glory, as clambering vine-leaves adorn Corinthian 
columns and Gothic arches. 

II. Culture of the Beautiful. — The value of the beautiful 
being thus apparent, we pass to the consideration of the culture 
of the intuitive power in the sphere of the beautiful. The gen- 
eral principle of this culture is to give the mind exercise in the 
perception of beauty. As the memory is cultivated by remember- 
ing, so the perception of the beautiful is developed by the con- 
templation of beautiful objects. This exercise can be given by 
both the objects of nature and the productions of art. 

1. Culture from Nature. — The perception of the beautiful 
is cultivated by the observation of natural scenery. The soul 
rises in its perception and appreciation of the divine element of 
beauty by becoming familiar with the beauty and sublimity of 



400 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

nature. Here we possess a source of culture accessible to every. 
luind ; nature's galleries of beauty are free to all that will take 
the trouble to visit them. We can see this ethereal spirit of 
beauty blooming in the flower, twinkling in the star, trilling in 
bird-songs, and shining in the myriad-hued sunsets. It sighs in 
the zephyr, chatters in the streamlet, laughs in the cascade, roars 
in the cataract, and howls in the tornado. 

Nature Full of Beauty. — Nature is a master artist, and has 
embodied the spirit of beauty in all her works. We can see it in 
the morning sunlight kissing the cheeks of dew-gemmed flowers ; 
in the evening twilight that, like a silver clasp, links the day and 
darkness; in the morning star that heralds the rising sun, or in 
the star of eve that glitters like a diamond upon the brow of 
night; in the azure sky above, fretted with fleecy clouds or 
spanned by the rainbow's graceful arch; in the smiling valley at 
our feet, dotted with cozy hamlets or ribboned with crystal 
streamlets; and in the broad expanse of old ocean, as it blends 
with the sky and vanishes in the hazy distance. We can hear it 
in the vocal woods of spring-time, in the whispering of evening 
zephyrs, and in the green valley where the silver stream 

•'Babbling low amid the tangled wood, 
Slips down through moss-grown stones with endless laughter." 

2. Culture from Art. — The works of art also afford a means 
for the development of the aesthetic nature. The fine arts are 
the embodiments of the' beautiful, and thus furnish occasions for 
the perceptions of beauty and models for the culture of correct 
ideals. The principal of these arts are Poetry, Painting, 
Sculpture, Music, and Architecture. A few words in respect to 
the culture afforded by each of these will be appropriate. 

Culture from Poetry. — The perception of the beautiful 
may be cultivated by reading poetry. The element of beauty is 
largely embodied in poetic composition. Poetry has been ex- 
pressively defined as " a rhythmical creation of beauty." The 
bright visions of loveliness that rise in poetic minds have been 



THE CULTURE OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 401 

embalmed in immortal verse, and give inspiration and shape to 
the visions of the thousands who read them. The mind awakens 
to beautiful conceptions by communing with the souls who seemed 
to have caught visions of the ineffable beauties of the heavenly 
land. The flame of beauty glowing in the poet's line kindles the 
flame of appreciation in the minds of his admirers, and fills them 
with the sweet emotions that awaken dreams of unearthly loveli- 
ness. 

Select Authors. — Care should be taken to select those authors 
who present the best models of taste. The works selected should 
be adapted to the age and development of the student. The 
child can not appreciate the higher imaginings of Milton and 
Shakespeare, but will follow with delight the simple lines of Scott 
and Longfellow. The coarse and impure productions of genius 
should be carefully withheld from the young; and after their 
tastes have been moulded by the refinements of literature, they 
will turn with disgust from the corrupting pages of such writers 
as Byron and Swinburne. The beautiful passages of imaginative 
prose may also be used for' aesthetic culture. The mind of the 
child, filled with jewels of thought set in golden expressions, will 
grow in refinement and in appreciation of the all-pervading 
presence of the beautiful. 

Culture from Music. — This aesthetic culture is also given 
by the study of music. Music is beauty expressed in the melody 
and harmony of tone, and is thus adapted to train the mind to 
the perception and appreciation of the beautiful. We should 
begin the culture with the use of the simpler melodies of a Bellini 
or a Donizetti, pass to the simpler harmonies of the old chorals 
and sacred hymns, and at last rise to the comprehension and en- 
joyment of the sonata and oratorio, or the grand harmonies of 
the full orchestra. This culture can be obtained in the home 
circle, the singing school, the musical societ} 7 , the concert, and 
the opera. Every home should be provided with an organ or 
piano ; and the voice of singing should rise, like a sweet incense, 
{'rem everv family altar. Home can be thus made attractive, the 



402 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

taste of its inmates refined, and the soul enticed into the paths of 
purity and virtue. 

Painting and Sculpture. — The productions of painting and 
sculpture should also be used for giving culture to the aesthetic 
nature. Here we find the embodiment of the most beautiful 
ideals of form in the purity of marble or the richness of color; 
and these high ideals of transcendent genius train us to a famil- 
iarity with the highest types of beauty. It will not be convenient 
for every one to visit galleries of art, but by photograph and en- 
graving we can become familiar with the masterpieces of paint- 
ing and sculpture in the world. Subsequently, if an opportunity 
comes to see the originals, there will be an added interest and a 
higher appreciation, as we stand thrilled with the spell of fasci- 
nation before the immortal paintings, frescos, and statues of the 
masters of art. 

From Other Arts. — The arts of architecture, landscape-gar- 
dening, etc., may also aid in the development of the aesthetic 
nature. Models of the various styles of architecture in the mind 
give an appreciation of symmetry and proportion in buildings. 
Familiarity with artistically laid out grounds, such as we find in 
some of our public parks, and around a few private homes, culti- 
vate the taste and suggest how we can make our homes attractive. 
It is the mission of art of every kind, not only to give pleasure 
to the mind, but to cultivate in it purer ideals and a higher ap- 
preciation of the beautiful, and thus contribute to this higher 
culture of the soul. 

3. In Several Studies. — There are several branches of knowl- 
edge which aid in the culture of the intuitions of the beautiful. 
The most important of these are ^Esthetics, Rhetoric, and Literary 
Criticism, and the principles of Painting, Sculpture, and Archi- 
tecture. These studies deal with the principles of beauty, enable 
us to see where they are violated or conformed to in works of art, 
and thus quicken and improve our ideas of the beautiful. 

Study of JEstlietlcs. — The perception of beauty can be 
heightened by the study of the principles of beauty as presented 



THE CULTURE OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 403 

in JEsthetics. Intuition is not a blind goddess ; it is a spontan- 
eous activity; but it can grasp broad principles and operate in 
the light of them. The intuitive power comprehends the great 
laws of beauty, and when familiar with these its cognitions are 
true to the perfect ideals. Fashion and habit, though they can- 
not change, tend to warp the action of this faculty ; and it needs 
the guiding influence of great laws of beauty to keep it true to its 
own native conceptions. Surrounded by the sanctions of law, it 
is more confident in its assertions ; raised upon the high plane of 
aesthetic principles, it has a broader sweep and a clearer insight, 
and can catch defects and perceive beauties that elude the un- 
trained faculty. We recommend, therefore, for the training of 
this power, the study of the great laws of beauty as presented in 
our treatises on aesthetics. 

Study of Rhetoric. — In the study of Rhetoric we become 
familiar with the principles of literary composition, and are thus 
enabled to perceive the graces of literature that might otherwise 
escape our notice. We can learn to look below the surface, and 
not be deceived by the false glare and tinsel of poetic compo- 
sition. It enables us to separate the dross from the gold, to dis- 
tinguish between what is merely meretricious in ornament, and 
what is in accordance with good taste, and to be able to sit in 
criticism on the products of literary genius. It will also enable 
us to avoid violations of the canons of taste in our own literary 
composition. A better knowledge of the principles of rhetoric 
would have saved the pages of some of our greatest poets from 
an occasional blemish ; Shakespeare, with all his native genius, 
slips, now and then, into errors of no trivial character. 

Principles of Other Arts. — The principles of all the arts 
may be studied to advantage for the culture of the intuitions of 
the Beautiful. A knowledge of the laws of painting, or sculpture, 
or architecture, will enable us to see higher excellencies in those 
arts, and to appreciate them more fully. The reading of works 
of aesthetic criticism, such as Ruskin's, will afford the same kind 
of culture, and open the eye to the perception of graces and de- 



4:04 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

fects to which it would otherwise be closed. It will give one the 
power to see a meaning in a tint, a shade, or an ornament, where 
before it saw only color or stone. Such works seem to infuse the 
spirit of beauty throughout the soul ; and intuition is affected in 
its action by such infusion and the inspiration which attends it. 
In Human Life. — In conclusion, we remark that we should 
endeavor to derive this culture from and embody it in human 
life. The highest beauty is that which belongs to conduct and 
character, and here we find one of the most important means of 
sesthetic culture. Man should endeavor to embody beauty in all 
that he does, and thus make life itself artistic. Our daily tasks 
should not be regarded as drudgery; they should be moulded by 
some ideal of excellence, and then the humblest occupation will 
become a pleasure to us. Moral action, patterned after a high 
ideal, becomes artistic; and we have the beauty of conduct. 
Character should be the development of ideals of excellence, and 
life itself become a fine art. Contemplating these models of 
excellence, we rise to a higher appreciation of that divine beauty 
which is above all, through all, and in all. We may thus come 
to feel with the ancients that the soul alone is beautiful ; and in 
loving the beautiful, the soul loves its own image as there ex- 
pressed. And as the soul is a reflection of the infinite mind, our 
highest admiration will be for the divine Artist in whom is the 
fullness and perfection of beauty, and who is thus The Beautiful. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE CULTURE OF THE INTUITIONS OF THE RIGHT. 

THE Intuitions of the Good, or the Right, are the highest 
finite cognitions of the soul. All the intuitions of the 
Reason — the True, the Beautiful, and the Good— stand on the 
high plane of rational and transcendental knowledge. The con- 
ception of pure truth lifts the soul far above the cognitions of 
sense. The perception of the Beautiful is a more refined, if not a 
nobler conception than that of the True, and touches a larger part 
of our nature, as it involves an act of the sensibilities. The idea 
of the Good, however, is a grander and nobler conception than 
either that of the True or the Beautiful ; and it brings into action 
the entire spiritual nature— the Intellect, the Sensibilities, and 
the Will. In its highest manifestation it rises into the sphere of 
the infinite in the cognition of The Good or God.' 

Division for Discussion. — The intrinsic excellence of this 
idea and its far-reaching influence on the character and achieve- 
ments of mankind, lead me to hesitate to enter upon the discus- 
sion of its culture. What is here presented has been written \\ ith 
a deep sense of the inadequacy of the treatment, and with the 
hope of giving a fuller and worthier development of it in some 
other work, at some future time. The subject is here treated 
under four heads; the Nature of the Culture, the Importance of 
the Culture, the Principles of the Culture, and the Culture of the 
Different Ideas and Duties. 

I. Nature of Culture of Moral Ideas.— The moral ideas, 
though given by the reason, will admit of assistance in their de- 
velopment. This is especially true in respect to the different 
specific forms of the general notion of the Right. All persons have 

(405) 



406 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

a general notion of moral distinctions ; but the cognition of the 
specific forms of the Right is largely due to culture and education. 
The moral ideas, in this respect, are similar to those of space. 
Intuition gives us the general notion of space ; and by intuition 
also we can attain to all the possible forms of space, as lines, tri- 
angles, circles, etc. The mind, however, is greatly aided in con- 
ceiving these geometrical forms by models, pictures, descriptions, 
etc. Illustration, also, though it does not originate, greatly 
facilitates the development of the axioms of mathematics in the 
mind. The same thing hohis true in respect to moral ideas and 
truths. Indeed, the moral ideas being so much more complex 
than the idea of space, the influence of education in developing 
the particular forms of the right, is still more important than it 
is in developing the forms of space. 

The Ideas to be Developed. — The general ideas to be de- 
veloped are, — first, the general notion of the rigid ; second, the 
general notion of obligation; third, the idea of merit and demerit 
in respect to moral action. The idea of the right will include 
many forms of the right ; the idea of obligation will apply to 
each one of these specific forms of the right; and the idea of 
merit and demerit will apply to all actions in respect to each cog- 
nition of duty. 

Idea of the Right. — The idea of the right is more difficult to 
develop than any other intuitive idea. This results from several 
causes. First, the right is more complex than any other cog- 
nition of the mind. It is not always revealed by the action, for 
the same act may be right or wrong, according to circumstances. 
The right lies largely in the motive; and yet not entirely so 
either, since we cannot always justify wrong actions by good 
motives. Besides, too, our selfish interests and feelings often 
collide With the right and blind us to the clear cognition of duty ; 
indeed, they are so strong that we sometimes -think the right 
wrong and the wrong right. It often needs the eye of reason to 
be unclouded by the feelings, and to act in the pure, clear atmos- 
phere of truth in order to discern the path of duty. If our feel- 



THE CULTUEE OF THE EIGHT. 407 

ings are correct, they work in unison with intuition, and thus aid 
in the clear perception of the right. It is thus evident that it 
needs the utmost care and the most delicate culture to unfold 
this idea of the right in the human soul. 

Idea of Obligation. — The idea of obligation is not so difficult 
to develop as the idea of the right. Given the cognition of 
the right, and there is little difficulty in awakening the cognition 
of duty in respect to the right. This idea is attended with a 
strong feeling, and the action of the sensibilities will assist in the 
development of the cognition. We must, therefore, awaken the 
feeling of obligation as well as the idea, in order to give a more 
definite conception of this idea. In this matter of morals, the 
head and the heart are very intimately related. There is a sus- 
ceptibility to moral ideas and truths which seems to be partly in- 
tellectual and partly emotional ; and the two work together in 
moral conceptions. The more tender the conscience, the clearer 
will the eye of reason appear, and the stronger and deeper the 
intuitions of the right and obligation. 

Idea of Merit and Demerit. — The idea of merit and demerit 
follows the two previous cognitions, those of the right and the 
ought. These latter ideas are prospective in their action, — they 
are awakened in view of a possible act ; the ideas of merit and 
demerit are retrospective in their action, — they follow the act to 
which they pertain. They grow out of the idea of the right, and 
thus depend for their clearness and strength upon the moral 
quality which we perceive in the action. The idea is also very 
intimately associated with the feeling of merit and demerit, 
giving a sort of moral susceptibility which is partly feeling and 
partly cognition. Indeed, emotion and cognition are so inter- 
woven in the ethical nature that they seem almost to constitute a 
new faculty or power of the mind for the intuition of the right. 
It is intuition, interpenetrated with emotion, that gives us the 
clearest convictions of moral duties and their results to us. For 
the development of the conviction of merit and demerit, there- 
fore, we must train the emotional element to act in harmony 
with the intellectual element. 



408 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Special Ethical Ideas. — The general idea of the right, as 
stated, embraces many special forms of the right, such as honesty, 
veracity, obedience, etc. These particular forms of the right bear 
the same relation to the general notion of the right, as the dif- 
ferent forms in geometry do to the general idea of space. Out 
of this general idea of the right and these specific forms of the 
right grow certain principles of moral action which we may call 
the moral axioms. Thus having the idea of truth and falsehood 
and the right, there immediately arises the intuitive truth that to 
speak the truth is right and to tell a falsehood is wrong. These 
moral axioms have about the same relation to the science of 
ethics that the axioms relating to space have to the science of 
geometry. 

Idea of Duty. — The ideas of the right and of obligation lead to 
another idea, that of duty. Each idea of the right, when accom- 
panied with the idea of obligation, presents itself as a duty. The 
idea of duty is thus a complex cognition consisting of two cog- 
nitions, the right and the ought. It also implies a belief in the 
freedom of the will, though it does not embody an act of the will. 
This idea of duty leads to an act of the will ; and when thus em- 
bodied in human action, we have virtue. Virtue is thus a trinity 
of elements ; the right, the ought, and the act which embodies 
them. 

The Different Duties. — The duties may be classed under 
three. general heads; duties to self, duties to others, and duties to 
God. The duties to self are called Personal Duties. They in- 
clude Control, Culture, Purity, etc. The duties we owe to others 
are called Relative Duties. Tbey include Veracity, Honesty, 
Kindness, etc. The duties we owe to God are called Religious 
Duties. They include Faith, Love, Reverence, etc. The object 
of moral culture is first, to lead us to a clear idea of all these 
duties ; second, to impress the obligation to do these duties ; third, 
to lead to the actual development of these ideas in virtuous 
actions, and thus to develop manly and womanly character. 

Duty and its Opposite. — Each one of these duties has its 



THE CULTURE OF THE RIGHT. 409 

opposite; the good and the evil being related in opposite pairs. 
Thus we have the rigid and the wrong, duty and its opposite, 
virtue and vice. The doing of a duty is a virtue; the doing of its 
opposite is a vice. The mere omission of a duty is also a wrong ; 
as, a lack of respect, or obedience, or kindness, or gratitude. A 
vice is thus a contrary to a virtue, and sometimes a privative of 
it, — a relation similar to that of positive and negative conceptions. 
The object of moral culture is to enforce the right and prevent 
the wrong ; to lead the child to do the duty and avoid its opposite. 

II. Importance of this Culture. — The importance of the 
moral idea will indicate the importance of moral culture. As it 
stands highest among our cognitions, so does its culture transcend 
that of every other cognition. As the idea brings into activity 
every part of our spiritual nature, so does the culture of intuition 
in the sphere of the Good affect man more profoundly than the 
training of any other faculty of the intellect. A few remarks 
will be presented to indicate the value of this idea and its de- 
velopment in the human mind. 

To the Individual. — The cognition of the good gives highest 
dignity and glory to the soul. It does this, first, because it is the 
noblest attribute of man's nature. There is a scale of these 
higher ideas, — the True, the Beautiful, and the Good, — all of 
which give especial beauty and worthiness to man's nature. Of 
these three ideas, that of the Good stands the highest ; it is the 
crowning idea of the soul; and its culture thus gives highest 
excellence and dignity to the spiritual nature. Second, it is also 
the basis of responsible action, and thus of moral character. It 
moulds man's thoughts and .feelings, gives a spiritual worth and 
dignity to his actions, and is the basis of that spiritual entity 
which we call character. The highest product of man's life is 
character; and the essence of character is the moral element.. 
From this it draws its inspiration and life ; and in it the element 
of the good shines with an ineffable radiance. 

In Personal Influence. — Tjje idea of the right is the source 
of personal influence. The man who enthrones the idea of the 
18 



410 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

good at the centre of his being, becomes the man of moral power. 
The words of such a man fall on the heart with an influence that 
no mere eloquence of language can give. The ancients were 
right in regarding moral character as one of the elements of an 
orator, for the words that come from a heart consecrated to the 
sentiment of duty seem to be charged with spiritual power. The 
moral idea gives a man's actions an influence they can derive 
from no other source. A man whose character is moulded 
around the idea of the good moves through the world like the 
sun in" the heavens, giving light and influence wherever he goes. 
Washington was great, not as a statesman, not as an orator or 
writer of state papers, not even as a general ; his greatness lay in 
his moral attributes, in his peerless character. Aaron Burr, with 
the rarest grace of personal accomplishment, with the silvery 
tongue of persuasive eloquence, and with a mind that grasped 
great questions and reduced them to simplicity, was shorn of his 
influence when it was known that he lacked moral principle. 

Value to Literature. — The idea of the right is the source of 
what is best in literature. It is the informing principle of all 
that is most interesting or inspiring in prose or poetry. Take 
the idea of the right out of literature, — the struggle of the two 
moral forces in life, and the triumph of the good over the evil, — 
and Ave remove nearly everything that gives it value and interest. 
Omit this element in poetry, and though beauty might remain, 
the highest element of beauty is wanting ; it has lost the warmth 
and glow of life, and remains but a cold, icy statue, without a 
beating heart or living soul. Oratory is grandest when, in 
earnest, burning words, the orator .pleads for law, justice, and 
honor. Even fiction would lose nearly all of its charms did not 
the hope of a final adjustment of the moral forces, the punishment 
of vice and the reward of virtue, keep alive the interest in the 
development of events. 

Value to the Arts. — The idea of the right is the highest in- 
spiration to art. The aesthetic element is not sufficient for the 
greatest triumphs of the artist. The most celebrated paintings 



THE CULTURE OF THE RIGHT. 411 

or works of statuary are not those that embody pure beauty 
alone, but those in which the moral element blends with the 
beautiful. The highest works of art are those related to religion, 
and religion is the moral element lifted up into the divine. The 
Madonnas and the Transfiguration of Raphael, and the paintings 
and statues of Michael Angelo, all embody some ethical or re- 
ligious idea. The sublime statue of Moses, the fainting form of 
the Dying Gladiator, and the fearful group of the Laocoon, de- 
rive their power from the expression of a moral element. The 
grand cathedrals are the embodiment of the sentiments of aspira- 
tion and devotion, and seem to be shrines for the indwelling of 
the divine goodness. Music is never so grand as when, in organ 
symphony or majestic chorus, it strives to express the deep re- 
ligious emotions of the soul. 

Value to Society. — The idea of the right is the fundamental 
principle of the social organization. It is the central force that 
attracts men together and holds them in the bonds of social 
amity and peace. Without this idea, men might herd together 
like the brute animals ; but the beautiful fabric of social life is 
quite a different thing from a herd of cattle or a hive of bees. 
The care for one another's rights and privileges, the acts of kind- 
ness and benevolence, the establishment of schools for the edu- 
cation of the young, the erection of asylums for the afflicted 
and insane, all the social institutions that give beauty and excel- 
lence and refinement to social life, have their origin in this idea 
of the right. 

Value to the State. — The state is also a crystallization of 
forces around the idea of the right. The ethical sentiment is the 
tie that binds together the minds and hearts of men into the 
organic unity of government. Take the idea of the right out of 
the state, and it falls shivered into a thousand fragments. Each 
party rallies around some moral idea, and makes its appeal to 
voters in the name of some great principle of human justice. 
On this principle revolutions - are organized, and governments 
revolutionized. Let any great wrong be perpetrated by the 



412 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

government 01 the party in power, and the people will rise in 
their might to overthrow it. The Revolution and the Civil Wax- 
were both fought in the name of justice and human rights. All 
progress in government has grown out of a clearer apprehension 
of human rights and civil duties ; and the ideal of the future is a 
government crystallized around the idea of complete and im- 
partial justice. 

III. Principles of Ethical Culture.— Having a clear 
conception of the nature of the ideas to be developed, we next 
inquire how these ideas are to be cultivated and the different 
duties inculcated. The work is delicate and difficult, and of 
great practical interest. The general method of development 
may be briefly stated to be by precept, by example, and by habit. 
That is, the moral nature may be developed by instilling moral 
axioms into the mind, by presenting examples of virtuous action, 
and by leading to the acquisition of habits of right conduct. A 
statement of these general principles in detail, with one or two 
others closely related to them, will be appropriate to the discus- 
sion. 

Will Admit of Culture. — The moral intuitions will admit of 
culture and development. Though the idea of the right is an 
intuition, the clear and definite perception of moral ideas is 
largely aided by circumstances and education. Careful culture, 
though it does not implant the idea, will do much for its develop- 
ment. Careful training will make the eye for moral distinctions 
sensitive and bright ; while neglect or evil influences will dull 
the perception and deaden the moral sense. A corrupt and de- 
graded life, though it may not entirely destroy the power of per- 
ceiving moral distinctions, will blunt the moral perceptions and 
destroy that fine sense of duty that belongs to the virtuously 
educated mind. The demand for culture of the moral sense is 
greater than that of any of the intuitions, since the colliding in- 
fluences of appetite and passion tend to lead us away from our 
ideas of the right, and subvert our conceptions of duty. 

Should Begin Early. — -The culture of the idea of duty should 



THE CULTUKE OF THE RIGHT. 413 

begin early in the life of the child. Its intuitive sense of right 
and wrong should be properly directed. The delicate per- 
ceptions of the young mind and the sensitive feelings of the 
young heart should not be blunted and warped by the influences 
of wrong precepts or vicious companions. Thought and feeling 
should both be attuned to the ideas of truth and goodness. The 
practice of right doing at tins early formative period of life will 
become crystallized into habits and be fixed in the character. 
Moral culture should therefore begin with the intellectual life 
of the child, and be continued through its entire education. The 
young soul should be wedded to the principles of morality, so 
that its tastes and pleasures and longings are all in the direction 
of what is pure and virtuous. 

Feeling With Cognition. — In the culture of the moral ideas, 
feeling should be blended with cognition. Conscience is a com- 
bination of intellect and emotion ; and the two seem to combine 
in our convictions of moral duties. The moral feelings are an 
incitement to moral cognitions; they constrain and incite the 
intuitive power to action. Indeed, in these moral intuitions, as 
well as in the beautiful, intuition seems to become interpene- 
trated and suffused with emotion, constituting a moral sense or 
susceptibility for moral distinctions. The eye of the reason 
seems to grow brighter in its perceptions when illuminated by 
the flame of emotion kindled on the altars of the heart. 

In tJte Concrete. — Moral culture should be given in the con- 
crete. We need examples of virtuous actions, as an occasion for 
the development of moral distinctions in young minds. They 
need to see moral truth embodied in moral deeds in order to. ob- 
tain a clear cognition of moral ideas. Let virtue embody itself 
in human form, and walk, talk, and act, and an impression is 
made that will manifest itself in the thought and conduct. Talk 
to a child of the beauty and necessity of truthfulness, and your 
words may fall on listless ears; but give him truth and honesty 
in action, and his mind opens to perceive and appreciate the right. 
The moral lessons for children should therefore be in the form of 



414 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

incidents of moral action. Christ set an example of moral teach- 
ing by his use of the parable in presenting the truths of the new 
gospel ; and the teacher of morals should follow the example of 
the Great Teacher. 

Example of the Teacher. — One of the strongest influences 
in the culture of moral ideas and duties is that which reveals it- 
self in the daily life of the teacher. This moral influence, rising 
unconsciously out of the depths of his being and emanating from 
him as a kind of spiritual radiance, makes an imperishable im- 
pression. A lack of moral power in the teacher will be imme- 
diately felt by the pupils ; and the profession or assumption of 
virtue without a reality at the heart, will but teach deceit and 
hypocrisy. When there is not a devotion to duty burning within 
the soul, all outward manifestations of it will be worse than 
worthless. At every point of contact with the teacher who is 
pure and noble at heart, the pupils will feel the presence and 
charm of a manly integrity, andbe stimulated to virtuous thought 
and action. 

Examples of Parents. — The examples of parents are espe- 
cially powerful in moral culture. The strongest lesson in mo- 
rality is the daily walk and conversation of upright and virtuous 
parents. The precept of father or mother may do some good; 
but the loving deed of the mother and the inflexible integrity of 
the father will do much more than their words. Parents should 
be careful to embody their precepts in their own lives. The. real 
in parents begets a reality in their children ; they are influenced 
more by what their parents are than by what they say. The 
parent who teaches one thing in precept and another thing in 
practice, need not be surprised if his children should be early 
skilled in fraud and deceit. For a father to tell his boy not to 
smoke, and have to take his cigar out of his mouth to do so, will 
not make a very deep impression in respect to the vice of smok- 
ing. The highest idea of duty lives in the heart and shines 
through us in our lives; and the parent who is true to a high 
ideal of purity and virtue will be a constant lesson, a living 
epistle of duty to his children. 



THE CULTURE OP THE RIGHT. 415 

By Literature. — Good literature is a strong influence for the 
culture of moral ideas and feelings. Here noble sentiments are 
expressed, and deeds of honor and heroism are portrayed. Our 
sympathies are enlisted in favor of the right and against the 
wrong, and the heart throbs in unison with that which is pure, 
noble, and elevated. Here we learn to admire high ideals of 
character, and to form our own ideals of what we would like to 
do and become. Vice, too, is portrayed in repulsive colors, so 
that we turn away from it with instinctive hatred. Where the 
demands of retributive justice are satisfactorily met, as they 
should be in a work of art, the consequences of evil actions tend 
to deter one from a life of vice. There are works of literature, 
however, which do not possess these attributes, and become a 
source of degradation rather than elevation; and these should 
carefully be withheld from the young. 

By History. — The study of history is valuable in developing 
moral ideas. History deals with the actions of mankind, and 
these actions contain .a moral element. They reveal the motives 
which have inspired mankind, wherein dwells the idea of duty. 
The consequences of these actions also serve to cultivate our ap- 
preciation of the good and our detestation of the evil. The deeds 
of benevolence call forth our admiration and inspire us with a 
spirit of benevolence; the heroic actions of heroes and martyrs 
lift the soul up to a plane of moral feeling in which it also 
aspires to deeds of heroism. So also, on the other hand, the 
element of meanness in human action, the craft and falsehood of 
the unprincipled, and the corruption of the base and degraded, 
repel the soul and cause it to turn, with an instinctive dread or 
hatred of what is low and vicious, towards what is pure and 
virtuous. 

By tJie Bible. — The book of books for the culture of the 
moral nature is the Bible. Here we have the finest precepts of 
virtue ever penned ; and here we see some of the noblest ideals 
of human conduct and character. In this book we have the 
most impressive statements of the wages of sin ; and here are 



416 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

portrayed the most striking examples and results of wrong-doing. 
Above all, it is in this book that, illumined with a divine 
morality and radiant with a celestial virtue, is portrayed the ideal 
man, full of grace and truth. Filling the hearts of the young 
with the golden precepts that fell from his lips, and implanting 
his character in their minds as an ideal of virtue, we have the 
strongest influence for the development of moral ideas and moral 
character. 

Avoid Evil Influences.— An important thing in moral cul- 
ture is to avoid evil influences. The soul can be stained or 
marred by sin ; the moral sense can be weakened by contact with 
vulgarity and vice; the taste can be contaminated so that it will 
enjoy the evil rather than the refined and elevated. Evil in- 
fluences seem to blunt the moral perceptions and seal the eye of 
reason. These influences, too, are so insidious in their nature 
that they steal in upon the soul, and stain it before we are aware 
of them. All such influences weaken our perception of the right 
and duty, and should be carefully guarded against in the moral 
education of the young. It may be well to allow the young to 
see a little of vice in its repulsive aspects; but this is doubtful 
policy. The method of the Spartans, who taught their sons tem- 
perance by making the Helots intoxicated, is questionable. 

Moral Influences.- — We should endeavor to surround the 
young with moral influences. The eye of reason for the per- 
ception of moral ideas, grows brighter with the purity of the 
soul. Whatever tends to purify and elevate the spiritual nature, 
seems to increase our spiritual perceptions. The more elevated 
the character, the broader and higher the grasp of the moral in- 
tuitions. As the ear, with musical training, becomes so delicate 
that it catches the slightest discord, so the conscience may be so 
delicately attuned to virtue that the slightest variation from it 
will break upon the moral sense like a discord upon the ear. 
By the refining influence of virtue, the conscience becomes so 
sensitive that the most delicate moral distinctions will be imme- 
diately seen and felt. Spiritual elevation carries with it additional 



THE CULTURE OF THE RIGHT. 417 

spiritual insight; and whatever influences tend to purify the 
heart and ennoble the life, will aid in the culture of the intuitions 
of the right. 

A Hide of Action. — The intelligent conception of moral 
action is aided by a clear conception of some broad and compre- 
hensive rule of right. Such a principle will answer the questions, 
— Why is this action right? why is one course of action to be 
taken instead of some other course? There are several such 
rules which will guide us practically in moral action. One is the 
simple principle of right; a thing should be done because it is 
rigid. Another principle is that an action should be performed 
because it secures the best interests of all concerned. Another rule 
in respect to our actions to others, is that we should do as we 
woxdd be done by. Dr. Hickok's rule of "spiritual worthiness," 
though I do not regard it as an " absolute rule of right," is one 
of the most elevated and practical that has ever been announced. 
The principle is that I should do an act because it secures my otvn 
spiritual worthiness. To know that it is worthy of the soul and 
gives spiritual dignity, is my sanction for the correctness of my 
actions. It is equivalent to a high self-respect ; and the law is 
that a thing is right which enables the soul to respect itself. Such 
a rule as this tends to reinforce our intuitive conception of the 
right, and gives the sanction of our own spiritual worthiness to 
such an intuition. 

IV. Culture of the Different Duties. — The conception 
of Duty, as already explained, involves the idea of the right and 
of obligation. We apprehend it to be our duty to do what we 
cognize as right; and also to leave undone what we cognize as 
wrong. Our duties are many and various ; but for this dis- 
cussion they may all be embraced under three general classes ; 
Duties to Self, Duties to Others, and Duties to God. There are 
also duties to society and the state; but these are omitted as less 
appropriate to the consideration of the culture of the sense of 
duty in the young. 

Personal Duties. — Personal duties are those which we owe 
18* 



418 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

to ourselves as spiritual and immortal beings. They are duties 
which we should attend to if we were the only persons living in 
the world, or if we were cut off from all association with our 
fellow men. They contribute to our own personal Avelfare, and 
secure the approbation and worthiness of our own spirits. The 
most important of these duties are Control, Culture, Purity, In- 
dustry, and Temperance. Each of these duties has its opposite 
to be avoided; as, Intemperance, Indolence, Impurity, etc. To 
these we should apply the general law of moral culture, that we 
should cultivate the virtue and avoid the vice. 

Self-Control. — One of the first duties to ourselves is that of 
self-control. Man finds in himself impulses and propensities that 
tend to his injury and degradation. These impulses are of two 
kinds, mental and physical. The physical impulses are our 
appetites for animal gratification ; as, eating, drinking, indolence, 
licentiousness, etc. The mental impulses are such as jealousy, 
vanity, anger, peevishness, intolerance, etc. All of these impulses, 
when uncontrolled by reason, tend to injure our bodies or minds, 
and weaken and degrade our spiritual nature. The first duty to 
ourselves, therefore, is the proper control of these desires and 
propensities. Such a control is required to preserve the body 
and mind from injury. It is also demanded by the interests of 
our spiritual nature, as all lawless passions bring degradation and 
a loss of self-respect. 

Purity. — A second duty to one's self is that of purity. We 
should not only restrain ourselves from evil by self-control, which 
is a negative virtue ; but we should -also, by positive effort, culti- 
vate spiritual purity. All evil thoughts that, like serpents, go 
creeping through the soul, leaving their slimy trail behind, should 
be carefully excluded. Thoughts of the pure and refined should 
be welcomed and cultivated ; and aspirations after the high and 
noble should be encouraged. The soul should be a shrine of 
pure thoughts and beautiful imaginings, a temple fit for the in- 
dwelling of the gods. The light of truth and beauty should be 
shining there, and the vestal flame of purity should be kept ever 



THE CULTUEE OF THE EIGHT. 419 

burning on the altars of the heart. From every soul should arise 
like a sweet incense the prayer of Socrates of old, " Grant to make 
me beautiful within." 

Culture. — Culture is a duty that the mind owes to itself. The 
soul is not created mature ; it grows into spiritual excellence by 
proper culture. This growth may be stimulated and directed; 
and it is the duty of every person to labor for the proper develop- 
ment of all his powers. The fact that the soul can be cultivated 
indicates the duty of affording it culture. The further fact that 
the spiritual nature reaches its highest state of perfection by cul- 
ture, emphasizes this duty. The glory of man is in a full and 
harmonious development of all his powers. To neglect this cul- 
ture is an indignity to our own souls ; to afford this culture se- 
cures the approval of our sense of right, and meets the demands 
of spiritual worthiness. 

Industry. — The duty of industry should be early inculcated. 
This is an important practical virtue ; man was not born to idle 
away his time in pleasure, but to accomplish some useful purpose. 
He is to be not merely a consumer, but a producer of that upon 
which he lives. The law of industry is written in the very con- 
stitution of man. It needs no divine command to teach that "in 
the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread." Every man is under 
obligation to the behests of his own soul to do something, and not 
be a mere drone in the busy hive of the world. The virtue of 
industry should thus be early inculcated, and the vice of indo- 
lence proscribed. Teachers and parents should aim to cultivate 
industrious habits among the young, and thus make work a 
pleasure and idleness a source of unhappiness. 

Temperance. — The virtue of temperance is closely related to 
that of self-control. It is the regulated activity of those appetites 
which, immoderately indulged, lead to degradation and ruin. 
Many things are wrong only in their abuse; and such abuse is 
intemperance. Temperance is the proper use of our powers, 
either mental or physical, and of those objects which gratify or 
give pleasure to these powers. Thus we should be temperate in 



420 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

eating and drinking ; gluttony or drunkenness is an indignity 
and a disgrace to the human spirit. So there are other propen- 
sities which, when moderately exercised, contribute to our welfare, 
but when exercised without restraint degrade us to the level of 
the brute. The duty of temperance should be early taught to 
the young ; and, if possible, confirmed into a habit. 

Ambition. — Ambition is a moral trait of mixed good and 
evil. An ambition for high attainments in science or art or 
moral achievement, is a noble motive, and should be sedulously 
cultivated. An ambition to equal in skill or power or influence 
any of our fellows, is also a virtue worthy of ourselves and is of 
advantage to the world. When, however, the ambition seeks 
power or influence for unworthy ends, it becomes a vice and 
should be avoided. The passion to excel others for the mere 
purpose of excelling them, or for the purpose of standing above 
or ruling them, is an ignoble quality of the mind ; in this form, 
ambition has been a scourge to mankind, and deserves the 
obloquy it receives. A person dominated by such a mean and 
ungenerous ambition, can secure neither the approval of his own 
spirit nor the respect of the world. 

Vanity. — Vanity is a moral trait entirely unworthy of a self- 
respecting spirit. It indicates a littleness of character that re- 
ceives, as it merits, the contempt and pity of others. Vanity 
manifests itself in a variety of ways. Some persons are vain of 
their wealth, others of their personal appearance or their position 
in life, others of their family or their birth, — things that give no 
true nobility to character. Others, again, are vain of their at- 
tainments in knowledge or their achievements in science, art, or 
literature, — things which are excellent in themselves, but which 
lose their attraction when associated with egotism and vanity. 
The vain man thrusts himself forward on public occasions, ob- 
trudes himself on public notice, turns the conversation upon him- 
self or upon subjects which will give prominence to his own 
actions and attainments. In all such eases the person makes 
himself an object of contempt, and is usually a "laughing-stock" 



THE CULTUliE OF THE RIGHT. -±21 

even to those who may respect his real excellencies of character. 
Vanity thus detracts from our appreciation of those things which 
are really worthy of our esteem in a man, and creates contempt 
where there might have been admiration. A manly unconscious- 
ness of one's own merits is the brightest ornament of high attain- 
ments and noble actions. 

Covetotisness. — Covetousness is an ignoble feeling that tends 
to bring degradation upon the soul that cherishes it. It mani- 
fests itself in an inordinate longing for anything that is not our 
own; though it is usually applied to the desire for wealth. 
When this develops into a passion and takes possession of the 
soul, as it often does, we have one of the most pitiable examples 
of the degradation of the human spirit of which we can conceive. 
For wealth the miser denies himself the comforts of life, forgets 
the claims of kindred and friends, scorns the demands of charity 
and benevolence, and centres his affections on sordid dust. His 
soul seems to shrivel and shrink until every kindly impulse or 
generous feeling is destroyed, and he becomes as insensible as the 
gold he worships. In opposition to so detestable a vice, we should 
train ourselves and our pupils to generous impulses and a kindly 
spirit of benevolence that will bless mankind as it adorns one's 
own character. 

Duties to Others. — The second class of duties are those 
which grow out of our relation to other persons than ourselves. 
The principal of these duties are, Courtesy, Obedience, Veracity, 
Honesty, Charity, Gratitude, etc. The obligation to discharge 
these duties is two-fold. First, they are demanded of us by the 
rights of others ; we are under obligation to do them because of 
their relation to and effects upon mankind. Second, the dis- 
charge of these duties secures our own spiritual worthiness; to 
neglect or violate them brings spiritual unworthiness and a sense 
of personal dishonor. Both of these principles should be applied 
as motives to the discharge of our relative duties. 

Courtesy. — Courtesy is a common duty, not restricted to any 
particular relation, but one which we owe to all mankind. In 



422 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

its negative form, it excludes all rudeness and insolence towards 
a person, forbids scorn and arrogance and ridicule, and every- 
thing that carries with it an appearance of disrespect or insult. 
In its positive aspect, it requires civility in word and action, and 
a careful attention to the feelings and opinions of others. Any 
discourtesy is an indignity to the person towards whom it is ex- 
tended, and a violation of his intrinsic right to be treated with 
respect. An act of discourtesy towards us does not release us 
from the duty of courtesy; we may properly feel indignant at 
such treatment, but our resentment may be tempered with a 
dignity and delicacy which manifest our appreciation of our own 
worthiness and a sense of what is due from us to others, even 
though they are unworthy of it. 

Obedience. — Obedience is a virtue that springs out of the re- 
lation of a person to one in authority over him. It is a rational 
duty, and is readily recognized by a mind in which the sense 
of the right is clear and intelligent. It is a duty rendered in 
obedience to the demands of our own spirit, as well as to the re- 
quirement of the person in authority. We see that the person 
has a right to demand obedience; and we obey because of his 
right to demand. We see, at the same time, that we are under 
obligations to obey, even aside from this demand ; and that not 
to render this obedience would be an indignity to our own spir- 
itual natures. This principle should be carefully inculcated in 
the minds of the young. They should be taught the duty of 
obedience, and learn to render it willingly, and with a sense of 
personal dignity in so doing. They should be obedient to 
parents, teachers, and all others in authority, and thus cultivate 
the virtue of good citizenship, — obedience to the state. 

Veracity. — Veracity is a duty that grows out of our relation 
to others. To deceive a person is an indignity to him as a person, 
and is thus a violation of the principles of morality. It is also 
wrong in that it may lead him into an erroneous statement or an 
improper action. It is also seen to be an indignity to one's own 
spirit ; the man who willfully deceives another cannot but feel 



THE CULTURE OF THE RIGHT. 423 

that he sacrifices his own self-respect. Besides, truth is an excel- 
lence in itself. It is one of the noblest virtues, and gives high 
worth and dignity to the mind in which it dwells. Its opposite, 
lying, is an ignoble and cowardly vice ; and brings self-degrada- 
tion and a loss of honor to the soul. Truth should be cultivated 
in small things as well as in great. There are no " white lies ;" a 
lie is always black with dishonor. Care is to be taken also to 
avoid falsehoods of equivocation, of gesture, and even of silence 
with intention to deceive. Such lies are even worse than a direct 
untruth, because they seem to combine the element of cowardice 
with the intention to deceive. The young should be trained to 
value the virtue of veracity, and to enshrine this principle at the 
very centre of their being, that it may shine with radiance in all 
their words and actions. 

Honesty. — Honesty is a duty that applies primarily to matters 
of finance and trade; but it also includes all dealings with others. 
We should be as careful to act honestly with the thoughts, the 
reputation, and character of another, as with his property or his 
purse. To cheat him out of his invention, or to endeavor by 
falsehood to rob him of his reputation and esteem among man- 
kind, would be as vile as to steal his purse or burn his buildings. 
To deal dishonestly with a person not only takes from him that 
which belongs to him, but is also an indignity to him as a rational 
being. The duty of honesty is also required by our own personal 
worthiness ; it is a degradation to our own spirit to deal dishon- 
estly with our fellow men. Even if we could secure some per- 
sonal interest or happiness, it would be bought at the price of 
self-contempt and a sense of spiritual unworthiness. 

Charity. — Charity, or the spirit of kindness, is a duty due to 
all mankind. We are associated with our fellow-beings ; they 
have a right to happiness, and we bear a relation to that happi- 
ness. The law of kindness forbids anything that tends to wound 
the feelings or produce suffering among our fellow men. It is 
not the reciprocity of favors, a selfish return for what has been 
given, but a spirit of love that goes out to all, regardless of what 



424 ■ MENTAL SCIENCE. 

they have done to us. Kindness is a right that others may de- 
mand from us ; we are therefore under obligation, not only not 
to mar t-heir happiness, but also to contribute to it. This virtue 
is also due to the behests of our own worthiness ; an intentional 
act of unkindness is folloAved by a sense of personal degradation. 
The kindly word or deed that makes others happy is also re- 
flective; it leaves a happiness behind it in our own spirits. We 
should teach the young to give kind words, friendly smiles, and 
helpful deeds, for the relief and happiness of those around them. 

Gratitude. — Gratitude is a duty that grows out of a special 
relation to others, that of receiving favors or kindness from them. 
It is an intuitive cognition that such favors should be appreciated 
by the recipient, and awaken in his heart a feeling of gratitude. 
This feeling should be manifested by some token of word or deed. 
Not to feel and express this sentiment of gratitude indicates a 
hard and selfish heart, and a character unworthy of esteem or 
respect. Ingratitude is one of the meanest vices; it shows a base 
spirit. The duty of gratitude is a right of the benefactor; he 
can claim it as his recompense and due. It is also demanded by 
our own spiritual worthiness ; the ungrateful heart must exper- 
ience a sense of imworthiness as it stands in its own presence and 
feels the gaze of its own moral eye. 

Duties to God. — Consciousness reveals in the mind the idea 
of a Supreme Being. This idea, whatever may be said of the 
externa] reality, is universal; it is found in the mind of every 
nation and people. The idea of God as a first cause shines like 
a star in the sky of every mind ; and a belief in him as a ruler 
and governor of nature and mankind illumines man's thought 
&nd character, as the sun in the heavens illumines the world. A 
belief so important and general demands recognition in phi- 
losophy and education. The conception of such a Being and of 
our relation to him gives rise to certain duties due to him. 
These duties belong to the sphere of moral action in its broad 
, sense, and should be included in a system of moral culture. 
They may be specifically distinguished as our Religious Duties. 



THE CULTURE OF THE RTGHT. 425 

Classes of Religions Duties. — Our duties to the Divine Be- 
ing are many and various. They may, however, be all included 
under three general classes; Faith, Love, and Obedience. Faith 
is an act of the intellect, and will include all of our beliefs with 
respect to his nature and the conception of our duties toward 
him. Love is an act of the sensibilities, and embraces the feel- 
ings that should flow out toward him. Obedience is an act of 
the will, and includes the principle of all our religious acts. The 
conception of each one of these general duties is a product of the 
intuitive power, and is to be developed by the appropriate culture 
of that power. A few remarks will be made in respect to each 
one of these duties. 

1. Faith in God.- — Faith is a belief in the existence and 
nature of the Divine Being. It is an act of intuition, and one of 
the very highest acts of the faculty. God does not reveal himself 
to the senses ; no eye hath seen nor ear ever heard him ; he is not 
an object of experience, nor a result of reflection, but is known 
by an act of the mind that transcends all experience. He is not 
a part of nature, nor is he revealed in nature ; he is altogether 
above the natural world, — entirely a supernatural. He does not 
belong to any of our finite conceptions of space and time; but is 
an infinite in time and an infinite in space. He is an all-pervad- 
ing, omnipresent spirit, without beginning or end. He is not an 
effect of causes, or a link in the chain of causation ; but is him- 
self the First Cause uncaused. Such is our necessary conception 
of a divine being ; and this conception is one of intuition, and is 
the highest and grandest conception of the intuitive power. The 
Supreme Being himself is beyond all finite comprehension ; and 
is grasped by that attribute or operation of intuition which we 
call Faith. 

Grandeur of this Idea. — The idea of God is the highest and 
noblest to which the human mind has ever attained. It concen- 
trates in itself all that is grand and noble and good and beautiful 
and sublime. It is a combination of infinities ; the infinite in 
time, the omniscient in knowledge, the omnipresent in space. 



426 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

We have an idea of the True; God is our idea of absolute Truth. 
We have an idea of the Beautiful ; God is our idea of the per- 
fection of the Beautiful. We have an idea of the Good ; God 
is our conception of the absolute and infinite Good. In this idea 
we combine and crystallize all the infinitudes of intuition, — an 
infinite in time, an omnipresent in space, a first cause uncaused, a 
spiritual identity, without variableness or shadow of turning; the 
absolute truth, the perfection of beauty, and the ineffable good. All 
of these infinitudes are embraced in this one grand conception of 
GOD. 

Value of the Idea. — This idea is not only the grandest in- 
tuition of the soul, but is the most important idea in philosophy. 
It is the most inspiring and elevating cognition of the human 
mind ; it lifts the soul up to its highest aspirations and activities. 
Inspired by this idea, the mind has attained its noblest achieve- 
ments in literature and art and character. The grandest modern 
epics are the Paradise Lost and the Divine Comedy, the embodi^ 
ment of Christian faith ; and the grandest epic of antiquity is 
inspired by a faith in Jupiter and his attendant deities. In the 
art of painting, the Transfiguration of Raphael, the Last Supper 
of Da Vinci, and the Last Judgment of Michael Angelo, stand 
unapproachable for beauty and sublimity. The Church of St. 
Peter, the Duomo of Florence, and the Cathedral of Cologne, are 
the embodiments of the religious faith and feelings of centuries. 
The Messiah of Handel and the Creation of Haydn attain a sub- 
limity of conception unsurpassed in music. The Bible, as the 
development of the religious idea of the world, will ever be re- 
garded as the book of books. The highest example of the heroic 
in character is seen in the men who through faith in God stood 
firm and triumphant in the martyr's fire. The scene of highest 
moral grandeur on earth is that in which the Son of Man hung 
on the cross, dying for the truth, and with a pitying heart for 
others, praying " Father, forgive them," and with the thought of 
his own sublime work completed, exclaiming " It is finished." 

Cultivate Faith. — This intuition of faith is to be sedulously 



THE CULTURE OF THE RIGHT. 427 

• 

cultivated. No means are to be neglected to give fullest de- 
velopment to this grand and universal cognition and belief. By 
precept and illustration, by Sabbath-school and Bible and church, 
by all that is best and purest in human life and human thought, 
this idea of faith in God is to be developed. Every effort should, 
be made to counteract that spirit of infidelity that would try to 
strike out God from the universe and the faith in God from the 
human soul. Indeed, so important is this idea to human life and 
human character, that it is better for the world that men should 
believe in a divine being, even if such a belief were but a dream 
of the imagination. Woe to the race and the world if the star 
of faith in God should ever be blotted out of the sky of human 
faith and philosophy ! 

2. Love to God. — Love is a duty to God, flowing out of the 
activities of the sensibilities. Believing in a God, we recognize 
him as the perfection of all that is excellent in character, and 
thus as worthy of our fullest admiration and veneration. To him 
gushes out spontaneously all that is best and holiest in human 
feeling. The natural feelings toward the divine being may all 
be expressed in the one word Love. Love to God is the homage 
of the heart to the perfection of the Divine Nature. Love is 
thus a duty we owe him on account of the excellence of his being. 
It is also a duty of reciprocation ; as the embodiment of all that 
is good he is full of kindness and love to us ; and we owe him the 
duty of love in return. We love him because he is worthy of 
our love ; and we love him also " because he first loved us." The 
law of duty requires that on the altar of our hearts should be 
kindled and kept ever burning the fire of consecrated love to 
God. 

Manifestations of Love. — This principle of love manifests 
itself in a variety of ways. These different manifestations give 
rise to special duties comprehended in the great central duty of 
love. Among the principal of these duties growing out of Love 
we may mention Humility, Reverence, Prayer, and Worship. 

Humility. — Humility is a natural feeling of the mind, grow- 



•428 MENTAL SCIENCE. •■ 

ing out of our faith in a Supreme Being. When the soul stands 
in the presence of the Infinite Being, it feels its utter insignificance 
and unworthiness, and veils its face and bows to the dust, saying, 
" Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty." In so doing it is true 
to its own natural instincts, and shows its recognition of and 
respect for the attributes of divinity. It is thus an act demanded 
by its own sense of spiritual worthiness ; to stand with head erect 
and covered in the presence of Almighty God, would seem like an 
indignity to him and would merit its own contempt. Humility is 
thus not servility of spirit; it is the soul's conscious recognition 
of the homage and attitude due to superior power, wisdom, and 
holiness. Such an attitude is also seen to be consonant to the 
divine nature; "the spirit of God delights to dwell in the hearts 
of the humble ;" and the promise is " Blessed are the meek." 
Humility is one of the sweetest blossoms of the human heart; 
it is " that sweet root from which all heavenly virtues spring." 

Meverence. — Reverence to God is an act of the heart inspired 
by faith in the existence of the Divine Being. It is the natural 
feeling of the human heart in the presence of the absolute Spirit. 
The human heart feels a respect for the spiritual in humanity, 
which rises in proportion to the excellence of the spiritual element 
disclosed. In the presence of some hoary sage, the soul bows with 
uncovered head in humility and respect. When it stands in the 
presence of the Absolute in goodness and power, this respect rises 
into reverence, and the homage of the soul is complete. Such a 
feeling of reverence gives highest dignity and worthiness to the 
human spirit. Though bowing in humility, the soul lifts itself 
into highest- dignity by the feeling of reverential affection. " No 
man is so exalted as when utterly losing himself in his reverence 
for Deity." 

Prayer. — Prayer is a natural outgrowth of the human heart 
from a faith in and a love for divine goodness. It is the soul's 
sincere desire for the love and care of a Heavenlv Father, who is 
conceived as being the source of every good and perfect gift. In 
this act of the heart, go out the richest currents of our feelings 



THE CULTURE OF THE RIGHT. 129 

towards the All-Father, with the desire that he will fill us with 
the rich influences of love and purity that flow from his nature. 
Prayer is not only "an instinctive, but it is a reasonable duty ; for 
the nature of our relation to God makes it a demand of our 
sense of right. God is our father; he is the author of our being 
and our happiness ; he has blessings to bestow upon us ; and it is 
but reasonable that we should ask for those things which we feel 
we need. Prayer also serves to deepen our attachment to God ; 
it brings the soul in nearer communion with the Infinite Soul. 
Prayer is, in fact, the golden link of love that unites the heart of 
man to the heart of Deity. 

Worship. — The act of worship is a duty growing out of our 
faith in and love for the Divine Being. By worship we mean 
those acts of honor and reverence which religion accords to the • 
Supreme Being. In it the soul seems to gather its feelings and 
pour them out in specific forms of love and veneration. It is 
humility and reverence and prayer, all fused into one feeling, 
and going out into one act. It manifests itself in the bended 
knee, the chant of praise, the song of adoration, and in the con- 
secration of the soul to holiness. Worship is a duty we owe to 
the Divine Being on account of his glorious attributes and deeds; 
to him who inhabiteth eternity and whose glory filleth immensity, 
acts of worship are due. It is a duty demanded by our own 
sense of worthiness ; the soul could not respect itself if it did not 
pour itself forth in the adoration of the infinite and divine. 
Worship is thus the crowning act of love to God ; and it adorns 
the brow of the spirit with its brightest chaplet of worthiness. 

3. Obedience to God. — Obedience is the act of the will 
towards the Supreme Being. It is the subordination of the human 
will to the Divine Will. Faith is the act of the intellect; Love is 
the act of the sensibilities ; Obedience is the act of the will. Obed- 
ience is doing what God has commanded, and doing it because 
he has commanded it. Love prompts to many deeds that flow 
out of the pure spontaneity of the heart. In love we do not stop 
to inquire what God requires ; we do what the feeling prompts. 



430 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

In obedience the question is not what I like, but what God re- 
quires ; and the will moves in obedience to the divine behest. 
There is no question, necessarily, of the right, but merely the 
question of what is God's will in respect to an action, and our 
will operates in harmony with the Divine Will. 

Forms of Obedience. — The principle of obedience applies to 
every duty that may be required by the Divine Being. Whatever 
we conceive to be commanded, that we are under obligation to 
perform, merely because it is required. The object is to determine 
clearly what is the will of God; and this will is our law and our 
guide. The divine will is believed to be revealed to mankind in 
the Bible ; and thus believing, the soul is under obligations to 
render a willing, loyal, and implicit obedience. To discover the 
divine will is not within the sphere of mental philosophy, but be- 
longs to theology ; and thus its discussion would not be appro- 
priate to this work. All that philosophy has the right to do is 
to recognize this principle of obedience, and thus lay a foundation 
for theology to build on. This foundation we have now laid; 
and those who believe in the revelation of the Divine Will in the 
Bible and the Divine Word, may build up the beautiful temple 
of religious philosophy, — a temple of grand and symmetrical 
proportions, and radiant with the light that comes streaming 
from the heavenly world. 



THE SENSIBILITIES. 



I. NATURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 
I. The Emotions. 
II. The Affections. 
III. The Desires. 

II. CULTURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 
I. Importance of Culture. 
II. Methods of Culture. 



THE SENSIBILITIES. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE NATURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 

THE Sensibilities are the powers by which we feel. They 
constitute that part of the mind in which we find the 
emotional nature of man. They are the source of the joys and 
sorrows of life; of its pleasures and disappointments, its happiness 
and its misery. Here arise the emotions which thrill the heart 
with pain or pleasure; here we find the source of the affections 
which fill the world with the brightness of love or the dark 
stains of hatred; and here originate the desires which urge us 
onward in the pathways of life, and place the beacon of hope over 
the portals of the future world. 

Relation to the Intellect. — The relation of the sensibilities to 
the intellect is easily understood. An act of the sensibilities is 
usually preceded by an act of the intellect. There must first be 
a cognition, an idea in the intellect, before there can be an 
emotion in the sensibilities. Thus when we love we must love 
something, when we hate we hate something, when we desire 
there must 'be some object towards which our desires. go out; and 
these objects must have been previously cognized by the intellect. 
There may, however, be some affections of the sensibilities which 
have not risen into distinct consciousness, that were not preceded 
by a distinctly conceived idea, as was explained under conscious- 
ness. 

Intellect mid Emotion. — The strength of feeling is usually 
proportioned to the strength of intellect. When the cognition 
19 (433) 



484 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

of the intellect is deep and vivid, the feelings arising will also be 
strong and vivid. The man of a strong and vigorous intellect 
will usually have strong and deep feelings. This is seen in such 
characters as Csesar, Luther, Milton, Cromwell, and Washington. 
The great orators were not only profound reasoners, but they put 
an enthusiasm and strength of sentiment into their thoughts that 
moved the hearts of their listeners and produced conviction. 
The great leaders of mankind have usually been men of broad 
minds, strong wills, and deep feelings. 

Classification of Sensibilities. — The forms of feeling are 
many and various. These forms are difficult of classification ; 
indeed, no classification has yet been given which has been 
generally accepted by philosophers. The simplest and most 
plausible division is that which regards them as consisting of 
three great classes ; the Simple Emotions, the Affections, and the 
Desires. The Simple Emotions are the source of the joys and 
sorrows of life; the Affections are feelings which go out to- an 
object with the wish of good or ill to it; the Desires are feelings 
that go out to an object with the wish of its possession or the re- 
verse. The principle of this classification is stated in the ex- 
pressions, — I enjoy, I love, I desire; Avith the opposite feelings, I 
suffer, I hate, I feel aversion. 

The Simple Emotions. — The Simple Emotions are simple 
feelings which spring up in the mind in view of certain cog- 
nitions. They are purely subjective in their nature, not going 
out towards any object, but simply giving pleasure or pain to the 
person who experiences them. Such are sorrow for the loss of 
friends, sympathy for the suffering, the enjoyment of the beau- 
tiful, etc. They may be regarded as modifications, more or less 
definite, of the general feelings of happiness or unhappiness, and 
which, in the specific forms, constitute the joys and sorrows of 
life. 

The Affections. — The Affections are feelings that go out 
towards an object with a wish of good or ill to the object. 
Thus in love or hatred, the feeling passes out to the object of love 



THE NATURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 435 

or hatred. They differ from the simple emotions in thus assum- 
ing an objective form, and flowing out towards the object which 
excites the feeling. So strong sometimes is this objective element, 
this wish of good or ill to the object, that it obscures the sub- 
jective element. The affections are thus not simple but complex 
feelings, embracing both a subjective and an objective element. 

The Desires. — The Desires are feelings that flow out towards 
an object with the wish of possession or its opposite. Thus the 
desire for fame or riches is a feeling, a feeling that passes out to 
the object, and a feeling accompanied with the wish of bringing 
the object to ourselves for our possession and enjoyment. The 
feeling is only satisfied by the possession or use of the object 
which awakens the feeling. The feeling is thus triply complex ; 
it is subjective, objective, and attractive. 

Illustration. — These three classes of feelings may be illus- 
trated by the analogy of a spring or fountain. The simple 
emotions are simply the play of the water, the gushing up from 
unknown depths of the pure liquid of the spring. The affections 
are the waters flowing out from the spring into the meadow, giv- 
ing verdure to the grass and beauty to the flowers that border 
the banks of the rivulet. The desires are" the waters flowing 
back again to their source, bearing on their bosom such objects 
as the current may have caught in its embrace. In the simple 
emotions, there is simply a play of feelings ; the fountain rises 
and falls, sparkling in the sunlight of joy or darkened by the 
shadows of sorrow. In the affections, the fountain of feeling 
flows out towards an object, bearing love or hatred in its course, 
and carrying it to the object which calls it forth. In the desires, 
the feeling not only rises in the bosom and flows out to the 
object, but it clasps that to which it flows, and endeavors to draw 
it to ourselves for our own enjoyment. 

Opposite Feelings. — The sensibilities are dual in their nature 
and products. Each feeling has its opposite corresponding feel- 
ing. This is true of each of the grand divisions of the sensi- 
bilities. Thus, joy has its opposite, sorrow; love, its opposite, 



436 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

hatred; desire, its opposite, aversion. Each specific form of 
these three divisions has also its opposite, more or less definite 
according to the character of the feeling. These opposites, or 
correlatives, are, as it were, the opposite poles of feeling, the posi- 
tive and negative poles of the sensibilities. 

I. The Simple Emotions. 

The Simple Emotions are simple feelings which arise in the 
mind. Their general characteristics are expressed by the terms 
joy and sorroxo. They include all those general states of feeling 
which give a tinge of joyousness or sadness to the mental consti- 
tution. They embrace also the more specific forms of feeling, 
such as sympathy for loss of friends, the enjoyment of society, 
the enjoyment of the beautiful or sublime, the satisfaction or re- 
morse resulting from a moral action, etc. These are all simple 
emotions, varying as the objects or ideas vary which give rise to 
them. 

Classification. — The simple emotions are divided into two 
general classes; the Instinctive and the Rational. The In- 
stinctive Emotions are those which spring up out of the general 
condition of the mind, either with or without some exciting cause. 
Tl.ey are independent . of any cognition of the reason, and thus 
belong to our lower nature, some of them being shared by the 
brute animals. Such are the enjoyment of society, sorrow for the 
loss of friends, etc. The Rational Emotions are those which arise 
from the cognitions of the reason. Such are the feelings awak- 
ened in view of the beautiful and sublime, the feelings of obliga- 
tion that follow the conception of the right, etc. 

I. The Instinctive Emotions. — The Instinctive Emotions 
are those which spring up spontaneously in our nature without 
any definite conception of the reason. They embrace all simple 
emotions that do not arise from a rational cognition. The prin- 
cipal feelings of this class are Cheerfulness and its opposite, Melan- 
choly, Pleasure of Companionship and its opposite, Sorrow at the 
Loss of Friends, and Sympathy with the Happiness or Sorrow of 
others. A brief discussion of each of these will be given. 



THE MATURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 4o~ 

Cheerfulness. — Cheerfulness is a state of mind growing out 
of a natural disposition to happiness. It is an innate gladness of 
spirit, a general liveliness or joyousness of disposition, a condition 
of the mind in which "a subdued under-current of gladness 
seems to fill the soul and flow through all its channels." It is a 
disposition to be joyful rather than a joy itself, filling the soul 
with a sunny aspect like "a mild, equally diffused light filling 
the sky, and bathing all objects in its serene loveliness and 
beauty." When it breaks out into a more sudden striking mani- 
festation, it is called gladness. It is the source of the merry 
laugh of childhood, the friendly look and kindly smile of maturer 
years, and the happy and tranquil frame of mind of old age. 

Melancholy. — Melancholy is a habitual disposition to sadness. 
It is the opposite of cheerfulness ; and, like it, is a disposition of 
the soul rather than an active emotion. It frequently occurs in 
minds of delicate sensibilities, and is often associated with poetic 
genius, as in Cowper and others. Nearly all of the rarest geniuses 
h?ve been slightly tinged with it, among whom we may mention 
Tennyson, Longfellow, Hawthorne, and Irving. Such spirits, 
too, are usually the most sensitive to the humorous ; and are often 
the most humorous writers, as Lamb, Hood, and Irving. This 
latter fact illustrates the old adage that " the fountain of laughter 
lies very near to the fountain of tears." 

Pleasure of Companionship. — The feeling of pleasure that 
grows out of companionship is also an instinctive emotion. We 
naturally delight in companionship; we enjoy the social circle, 
the evening party, the summer excursion where soul mingles with 
soul in the friendly word or sparkling jest. We love to wander 
with a few congenial friends, sharing the delights of the twilight 
hour, or to sit at quiet eve when the shadows gather, and com- 
mune with some kindred spirit whose soul seems linked by some 
congenial tie to our own. It is closely related to the feeling of 
friendship, and may be the basis of that affection. 

Sorrow for Loss of Friends. — Another instinctive emotion 
is the sorrow we feel at the loss of friends. This is a deep, sad 



438 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

feeling, proportioned to the intimacy and strength of the attach- 
ment we cherished for the friend. The nearer and dearer the 
friend, the stronger and more poignant the grief. Sometimes the 
soul seems to sink into the depths of an utter and hopeless sorrow, 
and again a gentle melancholy pervades the action of the mind. 
The feeling of sorrow is modified by the lapse of time. At first 
we often feel that the grief can never be assuaged and the heart 
soothed ; but time is the great consoler, and by and by the pain 
grows less, and the deep feeling passes into a gentle sadness of 
memory. , Such was the feeling under which Tennyson wrote his 
In Memoriam, and Longfellow his Hyperion. 

Symimthy With Hapjjiuess. — Another form of simple emo- 
tion is that of sympathy with the happiness of others. This feel- 
ing is so prominent and distinct that it has received a distinct 
name, sympathy. The term applies to our feeling in respect to 
joys or sorrows, the happiness or misery of others; but it is sym- 
pathy with the happiness that we first consider. This is a glad, 
joyous, and generous feeling that arises spontaneously in a noble 
soul. When others are happy, our hearts feel like rejoicing with 
them ; the smile of gladness on the face of a companion awakens 
a corresponding smile on our own faces. We congratulate our 
friends on their good fortune, and share with them the happiness 
it brings. 

Sjjmjmtliy With Sorrotv. — The opposite feeling is that of 
sympathy with the sorrows of others. This is a much deeper 
feeling than sympathy with their happiness. Indeed, the term 
sympathy is used almost exclusively in this latter sense. The 
reason for this is obvious. The sorrows of life are more marked 
and exceptional, and thus affect persons more deeply than their 
joys, so that our feelings of sympathy are naturally deeper. Be- 
sides, there is a greater need of sympathy for sorrow than for 
joy; for the sorrowing heart needs the touch of a friendly spirit 
and the sustaining words of a sympathizing friend. 

II. The Rational Emotions. — The Rational Emotions are 
those that are awakened in response to a rational cognition. 



THE NATURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 489 

They are feelings that arise from the ideas of intuition, or the 
reason. Thus, when I cognize beauty, I experience a feeling of 
enjoyment; and so when I have an idea of the right or of obli- 
gation, there is a corresponding feeling of obligation awakened in 
the soul. Such feelings are called the Rational Emotions. The 
principal emotions of this kind are the Egoistic, the ^Esthetic, 
and the Ethical. The Egoistic Emotions are those of Pride and 
Humility. The ^Esthetic Emotions are those of the New and 
Wonderful, the Beautiful, the Sublime, and the Ludicrous. The 
Ethical Emotions are the feeling of Obligation, the feelings of 
ApjDroval and Disapproval, and the feelings of Satisfaction and 
Remorse. 

1. The Egoistic Emotions. — The Egoistic Emotions are 
those which centre in ourselves. They are based on the con- 
ception of the ego, which is primarily a rational conception. 
They include the conception of Pride and its opposite, Humility. 

Pride. — The feeling of Pride is a rational emotion, inasmuch 
as it is based on the conception of the ego or self, which is a 
rational conception. The immediate cause of the emotion is 
some real or imagined excellence. This excellence may pertain 
to our intellectual or moral attainments, to our condition in life, 
or to any circumstances that seem to lift us above our associates. 
The feeling is one of inflation, or of self-congratulation. It does 
not necessarily imply a comparison with others, as the proud man 
may evince pride even when alone or when not in company with 
his fellows. 

Forms of Pride — The general feeling of pride may manifest 
itself in several different ways. When there is a display of 
superiority, with the purpose of courting applause, it is called 
vanity. When there is a disposition to magnify that which is of 
little worth, and to plume oneself on what one does not possess, 
it is called conceit. When the person looks with contempt upon 
others and acts with arrogance towards them, it is called haughti- 
ness. When a man has a high appreciation of his real rneri o 
and holds himself as if conscious of his own superiority, it i- 



440 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

called simply pride; and the man is not called vain nor conceited, 
but simply a proud man. 

Humility. — -.The opposite emotion to pride is that of Hu- 
mility. This feeling implies the placing of too low an estimate 
upon our own attainments or character. It is a feeling of in- 
feriority as compared with others, or as compared with our own 
standards of excellence. It leads to modesty of deportment, a 
standing back for others to take the lead in positions of honor 
and responsibility, a shrinking from the gaze of the multitude, or 
from assuming the responsibilities of public life. It is an at- 
tractive trait of character, and is especially admirable when as- 
sociated with noble traits or high achievements. Excessive hu- 
mility leads to bashfulness or embarrassment in deportment; and 
when united with a desire to please, often gives a person an air 
of servility or obsequiousness. 

2. The JEsthetic Emotions. — The iEsthetic Emotions are 
those which arise from the aesthetic cognitions. They embrace 
the feelings relating to the New and Wonderful, the Beautiful, 
the Sublime, and the Ludicrous. Each of these will be separately 
considered. 

Emotion of Novelty. — The perception of novelty, which is a 
rational conception, gives rise to an emotion called surprise. This 
is an agreeable feeling, and is the source of much of the pleasure 
we derive from the contemrjlation of the objects of life. We 
delight in seeing or hearing something new. Even an event 
which is in itself painful, affords a kind of pleasure in its novelty. 
We may be pained by the loss of a friend ; but the thing, and not 
the hearing of it, grieves us. We tire of the monotony of same- 
ness ; we need variety to spice the enjoyments of life. Novelty 
even heightens our enjoyment of the beautiful ; a picture seen 
many times, or a piece of music heard too frequently, ceases to 
afford pleasure. It has been remarked that to live always among 
mountain scenery diminishes our enjoyment of it. One of the 
pleasures of travelling is the continued succession of new objects 
which are presented to the mind. 



THE NATURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 441 

Emotion of Ennui. — There is a feeling opposite to that of 
novelty, which is very nearly expressed by the word ennui. This 
feeling arises from the monotonous repetition of the same scenes 
or incidents. We tire of a straight or level road ; Ave grow weary 
and at last become disgusted with the same series of musical 
sounds. Even the most beautiful song or poem loses its effect 
upon us if too often repeated, and leads to a feeling of disgust 
rather than pleasure. The lack of variety produces a feeling of 
weariness and languor of spirits, a feeling of satiety and indiffer- 
ence, that sometimes makes one almost weary of life. One can 
hardly wonder that pleasure-loving kings had persons employed 
to invent new sources of enjoyment, to afford them daily surprises, 
and thus relieve the monotony of their lives. 

Emotion of Wonder. — The feeling of wonder is akin to that 
of surprise, but differs from it in being deeper and more exciting. 
It is, as it were, a greater degree of the same element; that is ; 
increase or intensify surprise, and we have the feeling of wonder. 
The object which awakens the feeling must not only be new, but 
it must add the elements of the strange and marvellous to novelty. 
We are surprised at what is new or different; we wonder at what 
is great, strange, extraordinary, or not easily understood. A high 
degree of wonder passes into astonishment, and a very high degree 
of astonishment receives the name of amazement. 

Emotion of Beauty.- — From the conception of the beautiful 
arises the emotion of beauty. This emotion is one of the most 
delightful of our nature. It is a gentle and peaceful feeling, 
soothing and agreeable to the spirit, filling the soul with the pur- 
est and most exquisite delight. It is a purely disinterested feel- 
ing, containing no element of selfishness; the delight we experi- 
ence we long to share with others. It is also an emotion that 
refines and elevates our natures, leading us naturally toward the 
pure and virtuous. Some writers have objected to the expression 
"the emotion of beauty," holding that the proper term to apply 
to the feeling is admiration ; but we may admire many things not 
beautiful ; and the only expression that distinguishes this peculiar 
feeling from all others is that of the emotion of beauty. 
19* 



442 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Emotion of Sublimity. — The emotion of sublimity is similar 
to that of the beautiful, but differs from it in several particulars. 
The emotion of beauty is a calm, quiet feeling, that brings peace 
and tranquillity to the soul : the emotion of sublimity is a deeper, 
broader, stronger feeling, that disturbs and agitates, while it 
pleases the mind. In the presence of a sublime object, the mind 
is aroused and. excited; it seems to rise and expand with the 
element of infinity. The beautiful soothes and charms the spirit; 
the sublime agitates and overawes it. The former touches the 
springs of sympathy and love, the latter lifts the mind above 
these gentle emotions, and endows it with strength and power. 
Both are pleasing emotions; but the feeling of sublimity cannot 
be continued so long as that of beauty without exhaustion and 
consequent reaction. 

Emotion of the Ltulicrous. — The emotion of the ludicrous 
is a peculiar and exhilarating feeling of delight, which wreathes 
the face with smiles and attunes the voice to laughter. It seems 
to involve the principle of a "joyful elation of rebound or relief" 
from a condition of restraint or serious feeling, as children burst 
from the confinement of the school-room with a shout of laughter. 
The feeling of the ludicrous is clearly akin to the emotions of the 
beautiful and the sublime, and seems to lie between them. It is 
more active than the feeling of beauty, and less deep than that 
of sublimity. The feeling of beauty is placid and calm; the 
feeling of the ludicrous is bright, lively, and cheerful. The feel- 
ing of sublimity is deep, strong, and oppressive; the feeling of 
humor is light, sportive, and relieving. The feelings of beauty 
and sublimity seem to border on that of the ludicrous. The glow 
of pleasure in the contemplation of a beautiful object can easily 
be turned into the smile and the laugh ; and the feeling of sub- 
limity can readily drop into that of humor, illustrating the old 
adage that there is but a step between the sublime and the ridi- 
culous. 

3. The Ethical Emotions.— -The Ethical Emotions are those 
which arise in the mind on the apprehension of ethical ideas. 



THE NATUEE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 443 

They embrace the feeling of obligation, the feeling of satisfaction 
at duty performed, of remorse from duty neglected, and of ap- 
proval and censure in respect to the actions of others. 

Emotion of Obligation. — When the reason cognizes the 
right and the attending idea of obligation, the emotional nature 
immediately gives rise to the feeling of obligation. This is a 
strong, deep feeling, that tends to move the will to action. It 
embraces botlf a positive and a negative element ; there is a feel- 
ing to do or not to do; an emotion of the ought and the ought not. 
It applies also both to our own actions and to the actions of 
others ; we feel that we ourselves ought or ought not to do a cer- 
tain thing; and also that others ought or ought not to act in 
some particular way. 

Emotion of Satisfaction . — Following certain acts of rational 
beings, there is the perception of merit or demerit ; and out of 
this perception arises a corresponding feeling of merit or demerit. 
When we have done what we think to be right, there is a sweet 
feeling of satisfaction arising in the bosom. It is a joy unspeak- 
able, a delight incomparable with any other emotion that ever 
animates the human soul. It cheers us in the hour of misfor- 
tune, sweetens the cup of poverty, sustains us amid the most try- 
ing circumstances of life, enables us to withstand the coldness of 
friends and the slanders of enemies, and, above everything else, 
smooths the pillow of death and fills the soul with joy in the 
thought of the life to come. 

Emotion of Remorse.— -The opposite emotion to satisfaction 
is that of remorse. When we have done what we know to be 
wrong, this dark feeling arises, filling the mind with deepest 
gloom and sorrow. It speaks to the soul with an accusing voice 
that cannot be hushed. It throws a shadow over the brightest 
joys of life, gnaws at the very vitals of the heart, drives rest and 
peace from the softest pillow, and fills the thought of the future 
with dread and horror. So strong is this feeling that it some- 
times drives a man into dissipation to drown the upbraiding 
voice, and even aims the pistol at the heart of the half-frenzied 
suicide. 



444 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Emotion Towards Others. — The cognition of the merit or 
demerit in the actions of others awakens similar feelings of appro- 
val or disapproval, towards one who has done what we think to 
be right we experience feelings of approval and commendation ; 
towards one who has done what we regard as wrong, we exper- 
ience feelings of condemnation and censure. These feelings are 
proportioned to the merit or demerit of the action. They are in- 
dependent of the relation of the good or evil act towards our- 
selves; though the intensity of feeling is increased when the 
action is clone to us. They are also independent of sympathy for 
others ; though the feeling of sympathy may modify the depth of 
the emotion. 

II. The Affections. 

The Affections are feelings Avhich go out to an object with a 
Avish of good or ill towards it. They are feelings which not only 
move the heart to pleasure or its opposite; but they flow out to 
and centre upon something objective to the mind. They thus 
differ from the simple emotions, in that they assume an active 
and transitive form, going out from their source, and centering 
upon the objects which awaken them. They are therefore com- 
plex in their nature, involving a subjective and an objective ele- 
ment. 

Classification of the Affections. — The Affections are divided 
into two general classes; the Benevolent and the Malevolent 
Affections. The Benevolent Affections (bene, well, and volo, I 
wish) are those which go out to an object with a feeling of good 
will towards it. The Malevolent Affections (male, ill, and volo, I 
wish) are those which go out with a feeling of ill will towards the 
object on which they rest. The affections are thus seen to be 
different forms of the principles of love and hate, as the simple 
emotions are so many modifications of joy and sorrow. An af- 
fection, when it exists in an inordinate degree, so as to go beyond 
the bounds of reason, is called a passion. 

I. The Benevolent Affections. — The Benevolent Af- 
fections assume different forms according to the objects which 



THE NATURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 445 

awaken them. The most important are the love of kindred, the 
love of friends, called Friendship, the love of benefactors, called 
Gratitude, the love of country, called Patriotism, the love of the. 
race, called Philanthropy, and the love of God, called Piety. 
Each of these will be briefly discussed. 

Love of Kindred.— The love of kindred is an instinctive 
principle of human nature. It originates in the relation of parent 
and offspring, and extends with the widening circle growing out 
of this relation. The feeling is also beautifully adapted to this 
relation, and the interests which it embraces. It links the mother 
to the child by a tie necessary to its well-being in helpless infancy, 
and holds the child true to the interest of the parents in their 
days of needed care and sympathy. It is, perhaps, stronger in 
the parent than in the child, and stronger in the mother than in 
the father. The feeling is a priceless blessing to mankind. It 
founds the home with all its cherished influences ; and thus lays 
the foundation of the state. It beautifies and ennobles human 
nature, is the source of some of the purest enjoyments of life, and 
gives the world the type of that home in Heaven where we are 
all to be children of one Father. 

Friendship. — Friendship is the love of friends for one another. 
It differs from the love of kindred in that it is not based on any 
ties of relationship. Its foundation is congeniality of spirit; 
there must be some tastes or feelings in common. Similarity, 
however, is not essential; as we often find friendship between 
persons of almost opposite characters. Circumstances may 
strengthen or weaken the sentiment; and any change in the 
actions or moral character of one party will tend to modify the 
feeling. The sentiment of friendship is a beautiful one, and has 
adorned many a character and brightened many a page of 
literature. 

Gratitude. — Gratitude is the love we feel towards benefactors. 
In it the heart goes out with a feeling of benevolent regard 
towards the person who has been kind to us. This feeling is 
manifested by means of thanks, and by a return of kindly deeds. 



446 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

It is measured not so much by the extent of the gift or favor as 
by the spirit that prompted it. A small favor, with a pure and 
benevolent motive, makes a deeper impression on the heart than 
a larger gift with an appearance of any selfish motive. Gratitude 
is a royal virtue of the soul, and the absence of it denotes a dis- 
ordered or degraded condition of the spiritual nature. 

Patriotism. — Patriotism is the love we feel for home and 
country. It is a stronger and broader feeling than that of friend- 
ship, as our country is broader than our circle of friends. It is 
based on the separation of the race into families and nations, and 
the division of countries. Similarity of language, manners, cus- 
toms, literature, etc., tends to cultivate and strengthen the senti- 
ment. Privation and suffering intensify the feeling, as may be 
seen among the people of Holland and Switzerland. It is a sen- 
timent that gives dignity to manhood and citizenship ; and is of 
value in preserving the liberties of a country against the op- 
pression of tyrants, or the machinations of corrupt and selfish 
political leaders. 

Philanthropy. — Philanthropy is the love of the human race. 
It is a feeling for man as man, whatever his color, condition, or 
country, a love and regard for him as a member of the human 
family. It is a broader feeling than that of patriotism, not being 
limited by the boundaries of state or country. It is a feeling 
closely allied to that of sympathy. Indeed the emotion of sym- 
pathy may be regarded as the basis of the affection ; philanthropy 
is the feeling of sympathy flowing out objectively to the persons 
that awaken it. It is a noble sentiment and of great value to 
humanity, tending to alleviate human woe and increase human 
happiness. It took Howard into the prison-pens of.England and 
the pest houses of the Continent, to alleviate the sufferings of con- 
victs and lazars, and caused Peabody to devote his millions to 
the education of the poor and ignorant, without distinction of 
color or race. 

Piety. — Piety is love for the Supreme Being. This is the 
highest form of the affections, as the object of the feeling is him- 



THE NATUKE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 447 

self the highest. The feeling of piety involves several other 
forms of affection lifted up towards the sphere of the infinite. 
Thus, regarding the Supreme Being as the All-Father, we exper- 
ience towards him a feeling of filial affection. Regarding him 
also as the author of every good and perfect gift, our hearts go 
out with feelings of gratitude to him as a bountiful benefactor. 
Associated with him also is the hope of a blissful hereafter in a 
home of joy and brightness which we call Heaven. All these 
attributes and sentiments being lifted up into the sphere of the in- 
finite and perfect, give to the feeling of love to God a depth and 
strength possessed by no other affection. As the heart goes out to 
God, it swells with a richness and depth of emotion that transcends 
every other feeling to which the soul is susceptible. 

Relation of Affection. — There is an interesting relation 
between the several forms of affection. The sentiment of af- 
fection, it will be seen, exists in concentric circles of feeling. 
It has its origin in the small circle of home life ; flowing out 
further, it widens into the circle of friendship ; passing out from 
this, it broadens into the circle of patriotism, embracing our 
country ; spreading still further, it covers the whole earth in the 
form of philanthropy; leaving earth and mounting upward 
towards the infinite, we have the highest form, that of piety or 
religion. Here the heart pours out its richest affections in love 
towards the All-Father, and the soul bows in adoration and wor- 
ship. 

II. The Malevolent Affections. — The Malevolent Affec- 
tions are the opposite of the Benevolent Affections. As the 
former are so many forms of love, the latter may be regarded as 
so many forms of hate. The malevolent affections, like the be- 
nevolent, vary according to the objects .to which they are ap- 
plied. Each one of the benevolent affections may have its cor- 
responding malevolent affection. There are other more specific 
forms, however, which have received special names and which 
call for special attention. These forms are Resentment, Envy, 
Jealousy, and Revenue. 



448 MENTAL SCIEXCE. 

Resentment. — Resentment is a feeling that arises in the mind 
in view of an injury received. It is very nearly the opposite of 
gratitude, — ingratitude being merely the want of gratitude, — the 
love for benefits received. It is an instinctive principle of our 
nature, springing up spontaneously upon the contemplation of the 
wrong we have suffered. It is also a deliberate feeling founded 
upon the clear and dispassionate conception of the act and its cir- 
cumstances. In this case, it may assume the form of retaliation, 
in which we return evil for evil, or invoke the arm of the law to 
redress the wrong suffered. The feeling is not entirely selfish, 
as it may be awakened by some wrong done to another, in which 
case sympathy seems to be the basis of the feeling. It is liable 
to abuse, so far as it is excessive or seeks retaliation ; it is also of 
value in securing the ends of justice or the proper punishment of 
the criminal. 

Envy. — Envy is a resentful feeling towards one who is more 
fortunate or successful than ourselves. This superiority may be 
in wealth, or influence, or beauty, or public position, or personal 
regard. The feeling is stronger when the object of our envy be- 
longs to our own sphere in life or our own circle of society; it is 
more natural to envy the successful young man of our neighbor- 
hood than some one with whom we are not acquainted. Envy is 
usually accompanied with the desire to deprive the fortunate one 
of his possessions; but not necessarily so, since we might envy a 
person's beauty or wealth without wishing to deprive him of it. 
It is usually regarded as a mean and petty feeling, and indicates 
a narrow and ungenerous disposition. 

Jealousy. — Jealousy is a resentful feeling towards one who is 
or seems to be dispossessing us of what we regard as our own. 
Thus we are jealous of one who has won or seems to be winning 
the affections of a friend. In a similar sense we are jealous of 
our rights; the king is jealous of his authority, etc. The two 
feelings of envy and jealousy are closely related and easily con- 
founded. Jealousy is a painful apprehension of losing what we 
possess ; envy is a pain or dislike caused by seeing some good or 



THE NATURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 443 

advantage in the possession of another. It is thus readily under- 
stood how love and jealousy are so frequently united. This view 
will account for the term jealousy being used in a good sense, as 
" I am a jealous God," as he does not wish to lose the love and 
obedience of his children. 

Mevenge. — Revenge is a resentful feeling going out for the 
gratification of personal hatred. Its source is a personal wrong 
received, from which arises a feeling to do equal wrong in return. 
Its principle is a tooth for a tooth, a blow for a blow, evil for 
evil ; not because justice requires it, but because the feelings in- 
cite it. It looks not to a violated law, but to a personal wrong ; 
and aims not to uphold the principles of justice, but to gratify 
the feeling of personal malice. In its lowest form, it seems to 
manifest a malignant delight in the sufferings of an enemy. It 
is a dark and degrading passion, and indicates a cruel and fiendish 
spirit. 

III. The Desires. 

The Desires are feelings which flow out to an object with a 
wish of possessing the object. The feeling of desire is a complex 
one, seeming to possess a threefold element. First, there is a 
simple feeling, pleasant or unpleasant ; second, this feeling be- 
comes objective, goes out to an object; and then there is a wish 
to bring this object to ourselves, in a desire proper, or a wish to 
push it away from ourselves, as in aversion. 

Its Basis. — The basis of a desire is some previous condition 
or act of the sensibilities. A desire does not usually spring up 
immediately out of a perception or cognition of an object, but out 
of an emotion or an affection which has been awakened by such 
a perception or cognition. Between the desire and the cognition 
of an object there is generally, if not always, some other feeling, 
either agreeable or disagreeable, which forms the basis of the 
desire. Thus Ave enjoy the beauty of a picture; and then we de- 
sire to possess it. We experience love for a person and then de- 
sire to possess the person or his love. This preceding emotion or 



450 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

affection is not to be regarded, however, as a part of the feeling 
of desire, but mere!} 7 as a condition of its origin. 

Aversion. — As the other two forms of the sensibilities have 
their opposites, so the desires exist in opposite poles of feeling. 
The opposite feeling of desire is called aversion. As desire en- 
deavors to draw an object towards us, so aversion endeavors to 
push it away from us. Aversion, like desire, usually has its basis 
in some previous experience, in something, however, disagreeable 
rather than agreeable. Both desire and aversion have their 
source in the past, while their object lies in the present or future. 

Classification. — The desires are of two general classes, those 
growing out of the physical nature and those founded on the 
nature of the mind. The former are called the Animal Desires, 
the latter the Rational Desires. Of the former we may mention 
the desire of food, of activity, of repose, of stimulants, etc., usually 
called the appetites. Of the latter are the desire of happiness, of 
knowledge, of poAver, of society, etc. 

These several desires have their opposites or counterparts, 
called aversions. Thus the desire of happiness has its counterpart, 
the aversion to suffering; the desire of wealth its counterpart, 
aversion to poverty; the desire of knowledge, aversion to igno- 
rance, etc. 

I. The Animal Desires. — The Animal Desires are those 
which spring from the physical constitution of man. They have 
been called appetites, though the term is somewhat ambiguous, 
since it is generally restricted to the physical sensation arising 
from the wish for food. The term, as here used, however, relates 
to the mental as well as the physical feeling. The principal de- 
sires are those of Food, of Stimulant, of Activity, of Repose, and 
of Sex. 

Desire of Food. — The desire of food is a natural feeling 
growing out of our physical nature. It is designed to secure the 
health and growth of the body. It is proportioned to the con- 
ditions of the physical system, and to the length of abstinence 
from food. In health it is usually stronger than in disease, and 



THE NATURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 451 

also in youth than in advanced age, on account of the greater de- 
mands of the growing body for nourishment. It is based on a 
physical feeling which is often so prominent as to cloud the con- 
ception of the mental element of the desire. 

Desire of Stimulants. — The desire of stimulants is akin to 
the desire of food. It differs from it, however, in being an ab- 
normal instead of a natural desire. It is based on a condition of 
the physical system induced by the use of narcotics or other 
stimulants. Thus the habitual use of alcohol creates a demand 
for its use; and the use of opium cultivates the desire for its con- 
tinuance. These desires become so powerful sometimes as to 
dominate and enslave the strongest will, as in the cases of Cole- 
ridge and De Quincey. Human nature presents no sadder pic- 
ture than when the will becomes enslaved by the appetite for 
stimulants, and the man becomes a drunkard or an opium-eater. 

Desire of Activity, — The desire of activity grows out of our 
physical nature. It indicates a healthy condition of our muscular 
and nervous system, and is designed to promote the health and 
vigor of that system. It is stronger in youth than in old age; 
and is also found in the lower animals as well as in man. Thus 
the bird delights to hop from branch to branch, or cleave the air 
with arrowy flight, and the colt rears and prances in the enjoy- 
ment of its strength and agility. The basis of the feeling lies 
deep in the physical system, but there is also a mental element 
in it which constitutes it an act of the sensibilities. 

Desire of Mepme. — The desire of repose also grows out of 
our physical nature. It is designed to rest and recuperate the 
nervous and muscular system, to protect it from injury, and pro- 
mote its health.' It is also a source of enjoyment to us after we 
are wearied with the labors of the day. The feeling of languor 
that creeps over us is a delicious feeling that lulls us to quiet re- 
pose, and that seems to bring with it a balm to the soul as well 
as rest to the physical system. 

II. The Rational Desires. — The Rational Desires are those 
which spring entirely out of our mental* constitution. Their 



452 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

basis is not the body but the mind ; not jmysical pleasure but 
mental enjoyment. The principal of these are the Desire of 
Happiness, Desire of Society, Desire of Wealth, Desire of Power, 
Desire of Esteem, Desire of Knowledge, and a peculiar form of 
desire and aversion called Hope and Fear. 

Desire of Happiness. — -The desire of happiness is instinctive 
and universal. It is not entirely selfish, since it may be accom- 
panied with a generous desire for the happiness of others. Its 
primary operation is to give enjoyment to our own personal ex- 
perience. It is also adapted to contribute to the happiness of 
society, since if each is happy all will be happy, and also since 
when a person is himself happy he feels like making others happy. 
It is also the basis of the hope of continued existence beyond the 
grave, since if we could not enjoy life we would not care to have 
it prolonged in the future. Upon it also is based one of the 
strongest incentives of religion, the reward of right-doing being 
blessedness forever. 

Desire of Society. — The desire of society is also instinctive 
and universal. It shows itself in early childhood and continues 
with us through life. It is manifested even by the lower animals, 
which collect in flocks and herds. This desire is the source of 
some of life's purest associations and enjoyments. It is the basis 
of society and the state, for the association of men gives rise to 
social regulations and the laws of government. It is also one of 
the strongest feelings of our nature, as is seen in the sufferings of 
solitary confinement. Deprived of the society of his fellow men, 
man will console himself with the companionship of animals, as 
Byron describes in the " Prisoner of Chillon." The man who 
loses this feeling, and shuns mankind, becomes a misanthrope, 
and leads a dark and gloomy life. 

Desire of Wealth. — The desire of wealth is wide-spread, 
though not universal. It is not an instinctive and natural, but a 
derivative feeling. It begins in the wish, not for money itself, 
but for the enjoyments it may purchase fur us. The feeling is 
then transferred to health itself. The desire for wealth is not 



THE NATURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 458 

necessarily an ignoble one, if it is valued for the happiness it may 
bring ourselves and friends. When desired for the purpose of 
devoting it to deeds of benevolence and philanthropy, it is a 
noble and praiseworthy feeling. It often degenerates, however, 
into a desire for money for its own sake, and not for anything it 
may procure for the possessor or others. This is the passion of 
avarice, one of the most detestable manifestations of human nature 
that the world affords. 

Desire of Power. — The desire of power is a universal and 
instinctive feeling. It manifests itself in the games of childhood, 
in the rivalries of school life, and in the vocations and professions 
of society. Even the brute animals evince it in their contests for 
mastership and in their rule of flocks or herds. It is not neces- 
sarily malevolent in its character, as there may be generous 
rivalries even among friends. It is apt, however, to breed feel- 
ings of ill will and even to turn friends into bitter enemies. The 
feeling has been of great advantage to the world as a stimulus to 
personal exertion and public enterprise. Through it lofty 
positions have been attained, great battles have been won, states 
have been founded and governments inaugurated, and the arts 
and sciences pushed on towards perfection. 

Desire of Esteem. — Ther desire of the esteem of others is an 
instinctive principle. It is seen in early childhood, and mani- 
fests itself throughout life. It is also well nigh universal, as 
there are few who do not desire the approval and esteem of their 
fellow men. It operates both in securing the personal regard of 
friends and associates, and the general good opinion of society 
called fame. It even reaches beyond time into eternity, in the 
desire to leave a good name behind us and secure the remem- 
brance and honor of posterity. The feeling does not spring from 
a selfish principle of our nature, for we prefer the good opinion 
of those who can be of no possible service to us. Neither can it 
be traced to the idea, as Hume teaches, that the good opinion 
of others confirms our own opinion of ourselves, since we often 
feel we are better thou slit of than we deserve. 



1:54 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Desire of Knowledge. — The desire of knowledge is an in- 
stinctive principle of our nature, and also a universal one. It 
manifests itself with the opening mind of childhood, and when 
properly encouraged, increases with the development of years 
It is an appetite that grows by what it feeds upon, since the 
more we know the greater is the desire to know. It is not due 
to a selfish principle of our nature, for we love knowledge, not 
for what it brings us, but for its own self; and the more one pos- 
sesses, the stronger is- the desire that it shall become universal. 
The desire of knowledge is one of the purest and noblest feelings 
of our nature, and is characteristic of a refined and elevated 
spirit. 

Hope and Fear. — Hope and Fear are modifications of de- 
sire. Hope is the desire of some expected good, and fear is the 
aversion to some anticipated evil. The degree of the emotion 
depends on the nature of the object and the liveliness of the feel- 
ing with which it affects the mind. What we very much desire, 
that we hope for very strongly ; what we are very greatly averse 
to, that we fear very greatly. When sick, our strongest desire is 
to get well ; and the invalid usually has strong hopes of recovery 
even when his case is hopeless to all eyes but his own. The 
miser dreads more than everything* else the loss of his money ; 
and this is his greatest fear. The desire for future happiness is 
strong in the human heart, and the hope of the Christian seizes 
upon the joys of the heavenly world with a tenacious grasp. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE CULTURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 

r j~^HE Sensibilities will admit of culture, and should not be 
-L neglected in the work of education. They do not enter so 
prominently into the work of school training as the intellect, but 
they are no less important in the development of character. In- 
deed, the sensibilities lie much nearer the source and spring of 
human action than the intellectual faculties ; and thus, with the 
exception of intuition, do more to determine the conduct and 
moral character of man. The subject would require a volume 
to discuss it satisfactorily ; our limits will permit but a brief and 
inadequate discussion of the subject. 

I. Importance of the Sensibilities. — The importance of the 
Seusibilities and their culture should be more fully appreciated. 
Schools are established for the education of the intellect; but 
very little provision is made for the culture of the sensibilities. 
Pupils are classed and graded in respect to their intellectual ac- 
quirements ; to attempt to grade pupils on the basis of their emo- 
tional nature would be thought visionary and unpractical. Our 
curricula of studies are filled with branches to give activity to 
the intellect; what branches are given for the education of the 
sensibilities? So great a lack of appreciation of this element of 
our nature, demands the statement of a few reasons for its culture. 

Of Great Value. — The sensibilities are of great value to man- 
kind. Man is not intellect alone; he has a heart to feel, as well 
as a head to think. His thought is directed and incited by his 
feelings ; and thus some of the highest intellectual products are 
due to the sensibilities. The will, which is the immediate source 
of action, has its roots in the feelings; aj^cl thus the heart is, 

(455) 



456 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

in a sense, the source of the action of mankind. Take the heart 
element out of human action and human products, and they 
would be shorn of much of their excellence and power. Take the 
emotional element out of character and society, and they would 
lose all that is best and most beautiful in them. The wise man 
understood this when he said, " Keep thy heart with all diligence, 
for out of it are the issues of life." 

Influence on the Intellect. — The activity of the intellect is 
largely dependent upon the sensibilities. A quick and lively 
sensibility is usually attended with a quickness and strength of 
intellectual conception. A man with cold and sluggish feelings 
will usually be found to have a dull and plodding intellect. The 
emotional nature excites the intellectual nature to activity, and 
stimulates it to efforts that it would otherwise be unable to put 
forth. Thus under the stimulus of strong feeling, a man will ac- 
complish what he would not have believed himself capable of 
performing. The love of humanity, the aspiration after excel- 
lence, the desire of esteem or power, etc., have been the source 
of the great achievements of the race. The grandeur of some of 
the frescos of the Sistine Chapel was partly due to the perturbed, 
if not indignant, spirit of the great artist, Michael Angelo. 

Relation to Thought.— Peeling gives force to thought. An 
idea without feeling in it is like a dead acorn ; you must put your 
heart in your thoughts, if you would have them take root and 
grow in other hearts. Sentiment is not only the life, it is the 
soul of an idea. An abstract thought not warmed by the glow 
of the heart is a marble statue without life; put sentiment into 
the idea, and we have the statue with a beating heart, a flashing 
eye, and a rational soul. Sentiment is a stronger force than 
logic; the best reasoners are not always men of most influence. 
Mankind are influenced more through their emotional natures 
than through their intellects. In influence, inspiration is better 
than instruction. A touch of pathos, a tender incident, an ap- 
propriate compliment, are often more effective than the most 
logical demonstration 1 . In education it is better to inspire the 



THE CULT (JBE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 457 

heart with a noble sentiment than to teach the mind a truth of 
science. 

Relation to the Will. — The sensibilities exert a strong in- 
fluence upon the will. Our volitions depend largely upon our 
feelings; and we reach the will of others through their hearts. 
Carlyle says, " The natural king is one who melts all wills into 
his own ; " and the fire that melts the wili is kindled on the altars 
of the heart. "Hearts are stronger than swords," says Phillips. 
Love will conquer where steel is powerless. The Norman bow 
and battle-ax could triumph on the field of Hastings, and the 
Norman conqueror endeavor to force a new language on a con- 
quered people; but the love of the simple dialect which soothed 
them to slumber in the cradle of a mother's arms triumphed over 
law and force, and saved to us the rich legacy of the Saxon 
speech. Hearts are indeed stronger than swords. The gospel 
came, not with waving banners and pomp of war, but with the 
golden precepts of love to men and to God; and it has over- 
thrown idolatry and superstition, and led mankind upward into 
the highest civilization the world has ever known. 

Relation to Oratory. — The great orator relies on touching 
the feelings as w r ell as upon convincing the judgment. The 
most intellectual speeches are not the most effective. An aud- 
ience would hardly listen an hour to the delivery of the Princijyia, 
even if repeated with the charm of Whitfield's intonation. The 
great orators have been men of emotional power, men who put 
their hearts into their thoughts. "The passions are the only 
orators that always succeed," says Rochefoucauld. Henry Clay, 
in his tribute to oratory, says — "There is no power like oratory. 
Caesar c< ntrolled men by exciting their fears ; Cicero by swaying 
their passions." It is the tender sentiment, the quivering lip, the 
trembling accent, the moistened eye, that are often the most elo- 
quent pleaders. In Webster's great Dartmouth College speech, 
there may have been conclusive argument; but when with trem- 
bling v- ice and moistened eye he referred to his own loved Alma 
Mater, even the judges on the bench were moved to tears. 



45S MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Relation, to Happiness. — The sensibilities are the source of 
the joys and sorrows of life. Happiness is a matter, not of con- 
ditions and natural surroundings, but of the feelings. A happy 
disposition will be contented under any circumstances, and find 
enjoyment in any conditions of life; a morose, dissatisfied dis- 
position will be unhappy amid the splendors of wealth and the 
gilded honors of royalty. Happiness does not consist in intel- 
lectual attainments or scientific achievements; it is not found in 
the writing of popular books, or the delivery of great orations ; 
it is found in the peacel'ul feeling that pervades the soul. The 
home of happiness is in the heart ; the source of happiness is a 
peaceful conscience and a contented mind. 

Relation to Actions. — The sensibilities are the source of the 
actions of mankind. The deed comes from the heart more fre- 
quently than it does from the head; and 'even the head is largely 
obedient to the heart. Our thoughts are largely colored by our 
feelings. We are apt to think what we like is right, and what 
we dislike is wrong. We too often yield our judgments to our 
affections, instead of moulding our affections to our judgments. 
The mass of mankind do what they like, rather than what they 
think to be right. Love is queen of the mind; it shapes the 
thought and leads the will, and thus moulds our opinions and 
actions. 

Relation to Morality. — The sensibilities are thus intimately 
related to morality. Through their influence on the will, they 
are the source of moral actions. A good feeling flows out into a 
good action ; an evil feeling leads to an evil deed. Love in the 
heart prompts the will to an action of kindness and benevolence ; 
hatred in the heart goes forth into an act of revenge or murder. 
A feeling of covetousness leads to fraud and theft; and hatred 
applies the burning torch or lifts the knife of the assassin. Love 
to man beautifies the earth with its manifestation of generous 
action; love to country goes forth in the heroic deeds of pat- 
riotism ; love to God has inspired the consecrated life or crowned 
the martvr's faith with a glorious death. The heart has em- 



THE CULTURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 459 

balmed itself in the actions of mankind ; and moral action is thug 
largely dependent upon the feelings. 

Relation to Religion. — The sensibilities are intimately re- 
lated to religion. The essence of religion is Love; love to God 
and love to man. Love is the essence of obedience; we obey 
God because we love him. Love prompts us to acts of religious 
duty, — to reverence, prayer, and worship. Love builds the 
grand cathedrals, raises the altars of incense, sounds in the loud 
hallelujahs, and is heard in the still, small voice that ascends to 
the throne on high. Love is the essence of salvation, as revealed 
in the Atonement ; " God so loved the world that he gave his only- 
begotten Son" to die for us. The central element of the Chris- 
tian religion is thus the principle of love. Enshrined at its 
centre, it shines out from all its forms and institutions with a 
radiance divine. The highest revelation of God is that given in 
the definition of the Saviour, God is Love. 

Principles of Culture. — There are several general principles 
to guide us in the work of cultivating the sensibilities. The first 
principle is that the sensibilities are to be cultivated by exercise. 
The second principle is that we should develop the higher feel- 
ings and repress the lower feelings. The feelings, as we have 
learned, are dual ; they are positive and negative. The positive 
feelings are usually of advantage to mankind; the negative feel- 
ings are usually of disadvantage. As a rule, therefore, we de- 
velop the positive feelings, and repress the negative feelings. A 
third principle is that the feelings should be under the control of 
the judgment and the sense of duty. Many feelings that are fre- 
quently evil are allowable and even useful when under proper 
control. Moderation is thus the law of culture in respect to some 
of the sensibilities. Having stated these general principles of 
culture, and indicated their application, we shall endeavor in 
the following discussion to show the value of the various feelings, 
and indicate the importance of their culture. 



460 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

I. Culture of the Simple Emotions. 

The Simple Emotions are of two distinct classes; the Instinctive 
Emotions and the Rational Emotions. Each of these will admit 
of culture, and should receive the careful training of parent and 
teacher. This culture should be begun in childhood and con- 
tinued through life. 

I. The Instinctive Emotions. — The Instinctive Emotions 
embrace several diiferent classes of feelings ; as, Cheerfulness, 
'Melancholy, Sorrow for Loss of Friends, and Sympathy with 
others. These feelings need both stimulus and restraint; those 
that benefit us should be stimulated, and those that are an injury 
to us should be restrained. They should be directed in a proper 
channel, and be subjected to the control of the judgment. 

Cheerfulness. — Every one should cultivate the emotion of 
Cheerfulness. A cheerful and happy disposition makes our life 
happy, and disseminates the sunshine of joy around us. Cheer- 
fulness is conducive to health ; a sorrowful heart wears out the 
delicate fibres of the body. Worry kills more people than work. 
Cheerfulness brings spiritual health also; as Emerson says, "All 
healthy things are sweet-tempered." The joy of the spirit indi- 
cates its strength ; and " A merry heart doeth good like a medi- 
cine." We should endeavor, therefore, to cultivate in children 
a merry, cheerful disposition. Sympathize with them in their 
sports and pleasures ; let not sour looks or scolding words check 
the flow of happiness in their souls. Live to be happy and to 
make others happy. 

3lelancholjj. — The tendency to Melancholy in a child re- 
quires the careful attention of teacher and parent. This ten- 
dency is sometimes due to natural disposition, and is sometimes 
the result of special causes, as the loss of parents or friends. In 
any case, care should be taken to prevent its becoming a perma- 
nent disposition. This can be done by cheerful words, by pleasant 
surroundings, and by presenting pictures of the bright side of 
life. Especial care should be taken with those who are a little 
advanced in years who seem to be failing into a melancholy d\s- 



THE CULTURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 461 

position, for it is often the precursor of insanity. It can usually 
be cured by a change of surroundings, or by inducing the person 
to engage in some pleasant employment that will occupy the mind 
and keep it from dwelling upon its grief. 

Social Companionship. — The enjoyment of Companionship 
is worthy of cultivation. Enjoyment of social lii'e tends to pre- 
vent selfishness, and to develop sympathy and geniality of feeling 
and action. A child who has been brought up without compan- 
ions is usually selfish and disagreeable. Companionship is a 
source of happiness; some of the purest pleasures of life flow 
from the converse of congenial and refined society. It is also a 
means of conferring happiness on others; the gentle deed, the 
kindly word and sympathizing smile which social life cultivates, 
go very far to make life pleasant, and give joy to many a heart. 
The hater of society, the gloomy misanthrope, is an abnormal 
development; and is a burden to himself and of little use to the 
world. It is our duty, therefore, to place children in circum- 
stances where they may develop the love of companionship. For 
this purpose, our public schools are a great blessing ; for in them 
all classes meet on the same social level, and thus learn to know 
each other and acquire a unity of feeling and interest. 

Stjmpatlaj. — The feeling of Sympathy, though instinctive in 
the human heart, is worthy of cultivation. Sympathy is of great 
value to the world. It is the source of gentle deeds, loving 
words, and many of the best influences that bless human life. It 
inspires mankind to some of its noblest deeds; leads a man to 
risk his own life to save a drowning child, to rush into the flames 
to rescue the inmates of a burning building, or to give of his 
means for the relief of the destitute and suffering of a stricken 
city. Such a spirit should. be encouraged and also controlled. It 
should not be allowed to operate so as to conflict with the senti- 
ment of duty. The surgeon must not listen to the cries of his 
patient, nor the judge be swayed by the tears of the wife and 
children of the criminal. Our aim should be to unfold this feel- 
ing in the light of judgment and the sense of duty. 



462 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

II. The Rational Emotions. — The Rational Emotions are 
of three general classes; the Egoistic, the ./Esthetic, and the 
Ethical. In the discussion of the culture of these emotions, we 
shall speak, under the Egoistic, of Pride and Humility ; under 
the vEsthetic, of Novelty, Beauty, and the Ludicrous ; and under 
the Ethical, of the feelings of Obligation, Satisfaction, and Re- 
morse. 

Pride. — The feeling of Pride, when under proper control, 
gives strength and dignity to the character. When it becomes a 
predominant feeling, however, it mars the spiritual excellence, 
and is a source of littleness and weakness. We should therefore 
be careful to regulate this feeling and its manifestation. We 
should aim to cultivate a noble pride of character that would 
scorn to do a base or ignoble act. Care should be taken, how- 
ever, to suppress all exhibition of vanity, conceit, or haughtiness ; 
as these degrade the character and subject the individual to the 
contempt of his fellows. Even the highest attainments or endow- 
ments lose their lustre when the man is puffed up with pride or 
indulges in self-laudation on account of them. 

Humility. — The feeling of Humility, the opposite of pride, 
also demands attention in the work of culture. Humility, if not 
carried to excess, is a valuable and attractive trait of character. 
It endears a man to his friends, gives added merit to real excel- 
lence, and is an especial adornment to high attainments or great 
deeds. When carried to excess, however, it may disqualify a 
man for the real duties of life, or prevent him from accomplishing 
that for which his talents would otherwise qualify him. As a 
rule, however, humility is a crown of beauty and a robe of honor. 
It is a virtue that gives superior value to great gifts, and elevates 
the person in the estimation of mankind. The world delights to 
honor the man who is great without being proud or vain of his 
greatness. The man of finest character and greatest influence is 
he who, under the guise of a modest demeanor, possesses a firm 
self-reliance and a just confidence in his ability to discharge the 
duties that may devolve upon him. 



THE CULTURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 463 

Novelty. — The feeling of Novelty is not to be overlooked in 
culture and education. When properly developed and cultivated, 
it will give pleasure and interest to life. It is a principle which 
the teacher can use in making school life pleasant, and in secur- 
ing the attention of his pupils. The lecturer or preacher must 
put his discourse in some new or striking form in order to attract 
and impress the public mind. Care should be taken, also, that 
the taste for novelty does not lead to unhappiness, and a lack of 
interest in the commonplace and useful. The boy that is con- 
tinually thirsting for something new, may become dissatisfied 
with the sober and every-day face of truth. The man or woman 
who makes life a search for new things, leads a restless and wasted 
existence. Truth and beauty are worth more than novelty; and 
it will be a great mistake in culture to allow a taste for the new 
and wonderful to eclipse or subordinate the taste for truth and 
beauty. 

Beauty. — The emotion of Beauty is the purest and highest of 
the aesthetic emotions, and it should be sedulously cultivated. It 
has a purifying and elevating influence on the character, and is 
the source of some of the most exquisite enjoyments of life. The 
mind should be led to linger lovingly among the beautiful objects 
of nature, to find enjoyment in the figures and sentiments of 
poetry, to experience an exquisite delight in listening to the 
melodies and harmonies of music, and to fill the memory and 
the imagination with the graceful forms of the sculptor's art. 
Such a love for beauty will flow out into all our actions, and 
beautify our characters. It will enable us to make houses more 
attractive, and home life a source of highest enjoyment. It will 
elevate our tastes and aspirations, and, by its purifying influences, 
make our souls temples fit for the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. 

The Ludicrous. — The feeling of the Ludicrous is worthy of 
culture. The enjoyment of humor is a source of refined pleasure, 
giving a buoyancy to the spirit and a zest to life. A person that 
sees the humorous side of things, finds much to lighten the cares 
of life, and is a source of sunshine to other hearts. The play of 



464 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

humor in the soul lightens and freshens the spirit, as music does 
the soldiers on a weary march. A hearty laugh, we are told, 
doeth good like a medicine. Care should be taken that the taste 
for humor be refined and elevated ; there is no necessary relation 
between vulgarity and wit. The humorous incidents and anec- 
dotes remembered should be free from coarseness of word or sug- 
gestion. The humorous authors should be those of purity and 
refinement. The droll pages of Dickens, the polished satire of 
Thackeray, the gentle play of fancy in the pages of Goldsmith 
and Irving, the delicate wit of Lamb, and the broader humor of 
Hood, are all adapted to cultivate a healthy taste for the hum- 
orous. 

The Moral Feelings. — -The moral feelings demand attention 
in this work of education. These feelings are of immense impor- 
tance in moral culture. The feeling: that we ought to do the 
right has a strong influence in the clear conception of obligation 
and of the right. So also the feeling of satisfaction and remorse 
in respect to our actions, and the feelings of approval and censure 
for the actions of others, aid in the clear development of these 
ideas. Delicacy of feeling gives added delicacy of perception; 
and the heart aids the head in moral culture. Conscience, as we 
have seen, is emotional as well as intellectual. We should, there- 
fore, cultivate the moral emotions. The child's heart may be 
aroused by incidents of moral action. Fable and Action serve an 
excellent purpose in this culture by calling out the moral feelings. 
A tender and delicate conscience indicates, not weakness and 
effeminacy of character, but manly strength and dignity. 

II. Culture of the Affections. 

The Affections consist of two general classes ; the Benevolent 
Affections and the Malevolent Affections.* Of these the first class 
give beauty and excellence to character, while the second class 
usually weaken and debase it. In the culture of these forms of 
feeling, the fundamental principle is to stimulate the good feelings 
and repress the evil feelings. 



THE CULTURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 465 

I. Benevolent Affections. — The Benevolent Affections in- 
clude the Love of Kindred, Friendship, Gratitude, Patriotism, 
Philanthropy, and Piety. Care should be taken to give due 
exercise and proper development to each one of these several 
forms of feeling. 

Love of Kindred. — The love of kindred is one of the most 
important of the affections, giving rise to the family and the 
home. It is also a feeling which adorns the character and gives 
beauty to social life. The love of the mother for her child is one 
of the holiest feelings of the heart ; and the reciprocal affection 
of children for their parents, especially when continued into 
mature manhood and womanhood, is an admirable virtue. The 
love of a, boy for his mother is a strong influence to protect him 
from the evils of social life; and the attachment of a daughter to 
her father is no less admirable and useful. The young man who 
is ashamed of such a feeling, or who speaks of his father as 
the "old man" or of his mother as the "old woman," is on the 
high road to ruin. Special care should be taken in the nurture 
of this feeling. Parents should be careful to do nothing to 
weaken these attachments; and children should cherish their 
parents in their deepest affections. 

Friendship. — Friendship is a pure and noble feeling of the 
soul; a pure and disinterested friendship indicates a large and 
generous mind. The man whose heart does not go out in warm 
attachment to some congenial spirit, is wanting in some of the 
best traits of humanity : it is a mean and selfish mind that does 
not make a friend of somebody. The sentiment of friendship re- 
fines and elevates the soul, in that it is a purely disinterested feel- 
ing, springing from no selfish ox prudential motives. For a 
friend, the heart flows out in deeds of affection without any 
thought of remuneration ; our pleasure is another's happiness 
rather than our own. If adversity comes and "the friends who 
in our sunshine live " turn away with coldness and neglect, true 
friendship shows its fidelity by clinging closer to the objects of its 
love as others neglect and forsake them. The chain of friendship 



466 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

is not broken by death, but continues to bind the heart to the 
loved one, even when no longer on earth. As with Tennyson in 
relation to the friend of his young manhood, the feelings of our 
hearts will rise with a sweet incense of affection toward the loved 
one in the skies. To evoke and nurture so admirable a senti- 
ment, should be one of the aims of correct culture. 

Gratitude. — Gratitude is a virtue that indicates a just and 
honorable spirit. A lively sense of favors received which mani- 
fests itself by words or actions, is a natural feeling of a heart 
moulded to a nice sense of honor. The man who can receive 
benefits from another and not experience a warm feeling of grati- 
tude, lacks some of the essentials of true manhood. Unfortunately, 
however, the selfishness of the human heart frequently makes us 
insensible of the duty we owe to benefactors. Sometimes the 
recollection of a favor seems to be a burden to the spirit, and 
turns the heart against the one who has done us a kindness. In- 
deed, the lack of a feeling of gratitude is a common fault of 
humanity, and one that should be guarded against with the 
utmost care. The idea of duty should come in to stir up the 
heart to the proper feeling; the sense of justice and the meanness 
of the neglect of this virtue should arouse the mind to a lively 
sense of gratitude to benefactors. 

Patriotism. — Patriotism is a high and noble feeling of our 
nature, and should not be neglected in the culture of youth. It 
is a source of excellence and happiness to its possessor, and a 
blessing to the country in which one lives. It leads a man to 
guard the institutions of his country from those influences that 
would subvert or impair its liberties. Proud of the inheritance 
of the past, the patriotic heart desires to transmit the institutions 
unimpaired and even improved, if possible, to coming genera- 
tions. Under the impulse of this sentiment, a man rushes to the 
defence of an imperiled nation, willing to die that his country 
may live. A nation's life is rooted in the feeling of patriotism 
that lives in the bosoms of its citizens. The constitution of 
England, the struggles for a United Italy, the convulsions of 



THE CULTURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 467 

France for freedom, and the glory of the American republic, are 
all the product of the feelings of patriotic hearts. A sentiment 
so noble in character and so rich in blessings to a nation, should 
be carefully nurtured in the minds of its youth. The teacher 
should endeavor to kindle and keep burning the flame of pat- 
riotism in the hearts of his pupils, by the recital of the glorious 
deeds of their ancestors, and by every means that shall make 
them love their country and watch over her institutions. 

Philanthropy. — The feeling of philanthropy is a source of 
great benefit to the human race. It provides bread for the 
hungry, wipes the tear from the eye of sorrow, binds up the 
wounds of the broken-hearted, and aims to relieve suffering in 
every form. The asylum for the weak-minded and insane, the 
institutions for the education of the blind and deaf, the hospital 
for the suffering poor, the school for the orphan and home for 
the indigent, are all the outgrowth of the feeling of philanthropy. 
The feeling also ennobles the person, and wins for him the highest 
respect and fondest recollections of mankind. It is the sentiment 
of mankind that 

"The drying up a, single tear lias more 
Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore." 

The names of Howard, Wilberforce, Garrison, and Florence 
Nightingale will grow brighter in the memory of the world with 
the passing of the centuries. A feeling so rich in honor to its 
possessor, and so laden with blessings to the race, should be care- 
fully cultivated. 

Piety. — The feeling of love that goes out towards the All- 
Father should not be overlooked in a scheme of education. As 
this is the highest form of affection, so it lifts the soul into the 
highest sphere of thought and feeling. Flowing out towards the 
infinite, it seems to cause the heart to expand and swell with a 
feeling of infinity. As the soul tends to shape itself to that which 
it loves, so the love of infinite purity and excellence tends to de- 
velop the highest form of purity and excellence in the human 
soul. God in the heart will tend to infuse godlike attributes into 



4(SS MKXTAL SGIENCK. 

the character. A feeling so rich in its results to the spiritual 
nature should receive careful culture. The heart should be en- 
couraged in its aspirations after divine perfection, and by refer- 
ence to his watchful care and loving-kindness, led upward to the 
Heavenly Father as the highest object of its affection. 

II. Malevolent Affections. — In respect to 'the several 
forms of the malevolent affections, the one rule is that of sup- 
pression and control. Envy and jealousy are usually contempt- 
ible feelings, and degrade and contaminate the soul. Such feel- 
ings should be shunned as we Avould shun a viper or a beast of 
the forest. Resentment may be allowed under proper control 
when it is in the form of indignation at the wrongs of ourselves 
or of others. Meanness of character, the violation of principle, 
acts of injustice and oppression, are fit subjects for our indignation. 
Under such provocations the eye may flash, and the lip quiver, 
and the voice go forth in words of burning indignation. All feel- 
ings of retaliation or revenge, however, are unworthy of a moral 
being; they are a relic of barbarism, and fit only for the bosom 
of a savage. By endeavoring to make these principles operative 
in the hearts of children, we shall do much for that ideal state of 
society when strife and injustice shall cease, and the law of love 
shall rule in every heart. 

III. The Culture of the Desires. 

The Desires are feelings which go out to an object with a wish 
of possession or the reverse. They consist of two classes; the 
Animal Desires and the Rational Desires. The law of culture is 
to control and repress the lower desires and stimulate and direct 
the higher ones. 

Desire of Food. — The desire of food is a natural feeling 
designed for the growth and repair of the body. So long as it is 
under the control of the judgment, it is not an ignoble feeling; 
but when it breaks away from such control, and the man becomes 
a glutton, we have one of the most repulsive pictures of humanity. 
As a rule, not much attention should be given to what we are to 
eat, except to see that it be nutritious and wholesome. Care 



THE CULTURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 469 

should be taken to prevent over-eating, as it is one of the most 
prevalent sources of disease and death. Alexander is not the 
only one who has died from over-feeding ; men are dying every 
year from improper indulgence of the appetite. Less attention 
to the desire for food would be better than more attention to it. 
Penn's maxim is a good one in eating; "Always rise from the 
table with an appetite, and you will never sit down without one." 

Desire of Stimulants. — The one rule in respect to the desire 
of stimulants is repression. Total abstinence is the only safe 
rule. The injury arising from their use is not so much in a 
single violation of the rule, as in the growth of the desire. In 
no other desire does the appetite so grow by what it feeds upon 
The inebriate often knows the injurious effects of his habit, but 
he has not the power of will to break the chain with which his 
appetite has bound him. Not infrequently the maddening 
thought of his enslavement raises the pistol to his brow, and he 
dies a suicide. The use of opium and chloral is becoming a curse 
to our country ; thousands of lives are being wrecked yearly by 
these narcotics. We should write the maxim upon the hearts of 
our youfch, that the only certain safety is total abstinence. 

Desire of Activity. — -The desire of activity is designed by 
nature to promote our physical well-being. Physical activity is 
the law of physical health. The young should thus be encouraged 
in their sports. Facilities for out-door games for both sexes 
should be provided. Boys should have a noble ambition to excel 
in base-ball, cricket, foot-ball, etc. The boating club will prove 
a valuable auxiliary in the development of physical health and 
strength. For girls, the proper physical exercises are not yet 
provided ; and it is one of the problems of the age what we shall 
do for the physical education of American women. 

Desire of JRepose. — The desire of repose is also designed for 
the health and vigor of the physical system. Nature needs rest 
as well as activity. This demand is usually complied with in- 
stinctively ; and but little need be suggested in respect to it. In 
adult life, however, in this busy, active age, we need more repose. 



470 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

American manhood is suffering from overwork ; and the weakness 
of the present will be entailed upon posterity. In the busy strife 
of competition to be rich, or to rise to the highest positions in the 
profession, we are wasting energy and abridging the period of 
human life. We are living in a fast age; we live too fast and 
die too early ; we need more frequent and longer intervals of rest. 
Let teachers and others preach the gospel of repose to American 
society. 

Desir'e of Happiness. — Happiness is man's birthright; he 
was not designed for sorrow and misery. The desire of happiness 
is a stimulus in many departments of labor, and an incentive to 
high achievements. It is also the source of present enjoyment, 
for the thought of being happy in the future makes us happy in 
thinking of it. The common laborer who has a pleasant home, 
cheers his toil through the weary day by the thought of the 
happiness that awaits him when the toils of the day are ended. 
The feeling of happiness is thus not only a light that gives 
radiance to the present, but irradiates the future with brightness ; 
cheering the present and stimulating us to labors for the attain- 
ment of nobler ends. Fill the skies of childhood and youth with 
sunshine, and plant roses along their pathway; cause the hearts 
of the young to throb with joy, and they will not only be happy 
themselves, but contribute to the happiness of the world. 

Desire of Society.— Tho, desire of society is an instinctive 
feeling that contributes to tha happiness and welfare of mankind. 
It is a feeling, however, that should be regulated with judgment. 
Care must be exercised that one does not acquire the habit of 
entire dependence on society for happiness. The woman who 
lives for society alone is not only miserable a part of the time, 
but becomes disqualified for the proper discharge of the duties of 
life. Now and then we meet with young persons who shun 
society, and seem happy only in solitude. This is the other ex- 
treme, and is also to be avoided. Efforts should be made to 
interest such persons in social pleasures. It must be remembered, 
however, that for the attainment of much that is valuable in life, 



THE CLLTURE OF THE SENSIBILITIES. 471 

in art or science, a person must work alone. Solitude is con- 
genial to thought and philosophy ; and the works of art are 
usually the products of lonely hours of imaginings. 

Desire of Wealth. — The desire of wealth is a feeling not es- 
sentially unworthy of the human soul. To wish for money for 
the refinement and culture it may bring us, is commendable. 
Especially is it worthy of a man to wish for money wherewith to 
make a beautiful home for his family, and to educate his children 
and place them in comfortable positions in society. To desire 
property that we may contribute to the happiness of others is 
even a nobler feeling. The longing for wealth merely for the 
sake of wealth, or for making a display in the world, or for 
eclipsing some one else in elegance, is a feeling unworthy of a 
rational mind, and deserves condemnation. So also the miserly 
spirit that would accumulate wealth merely for the sake of the 
money, merits the contempt with which it is usually regarded. 

Desire of Power. — The desire of power is a feeling almost 
universal in the human soul. The value of this feeling, and thus 
of its culture, depends on the object for which power is sought. 
If a man feels that he is gifted with the personal and intellectual 
qualities to exercise control over his fellow-men, and desires this 
control for their advantage, the feeling is a noble one, and should 
be encouraged. If control is sought merely for the exercise of 
dominion, to gratify personal pride, or to secure the applause of 
the world, the feeling is an ignoble one, and should be suppressed. 
Inordinate ambition has been the source of untold sorrow and 
wretchedness ; it has shed seas of gore, and piled up hecatombs of 
victims. Heaven itself, according to Milton, was lost by am- 
bition. A noble spirit recognizes all mankind as brethren, and 
seeks their well-being, not by dominion, but by moral and spir- 
itual influences. 

Desire of Esteem. — The desire of esteem is a strong incentive 
to exertion. Men will devote years to secure the good opinion of 
their fellow men ; and for future fame they will expose them- 
selves to danger, and even lav down their lives. It is, however, 



472 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

not a safe guide to conduct, for it may lead a person to sacrifice 
his own principles to gain the approval or applause of others. 
A' man who trims his sails to the breath of public opinion, 
usually pursues a devious course through life. The entire disre- 
gard of public opinion is equally unsafe; we should have reason 
to distrust that young man who says he does not care what society 
or the world thinks of him. It may not be improper to try to 
influence a young person to well-doing by appealing to the 
opinion of others; still it is a much higher motive to act so as to 
secure the approval of one's own sense of right. An inordinate 
love of esteem is unworthy of a truly noble character. The 
grandest spiritual natures have gone straight forward in the dis- 
charge of their duty, unappreciated, misunderstood, and even 
condemned by their contemporaries, supported by their own sense 
of right, and relying on the future to explain and appreciate their 
motives. The fundamental law of human action should be, not 
what others think of us, but what we think of ourselves. 

Desire of Knowledge. — The desire of knowledge is a high 
and noble feeling of the soul. It is a longing for a possession 
that gives true dignity to the spiritual nature. Knowledge is 
the food of the mind, and gives growth and strength to it as 
material food does to the body. The intellect grows to a higher 
altitude by means of knowledge, and the growth of the intellect 
tends to lift the soul up into a higher spiritual life. Knowledge 
is a possession, too, that belongs essentially to its possessor, ami 
cannot be taken away from him. It is a treasure stored where 
neither moth nor rust can corrupt, and .where thieves cannot 
break through and steal. It elevates character by lifting a 
person above the desires of sense and physical gratifications, and 
is thus a means of moral culture. It is also a source of the most 
refined enjoyment. A person fond of knowledge can cheer his 
hours of solitude by holding communion with the rarest minds of 
every age, and thus be in the best society when he is most alone. 
It needs no suggestion to lead us to give fullest culture to this 
desire for knowledge. 



THE WILT,. 



I. NATURE OF THE WILL. 

I. General .Nature of the Will. 
II. Freedom of the Will. 

II. CULTURE OF THE WILL. 
I. Importance of Culture. 
II. Methods of Culture. 

III. HIGHER SPIRITUAL CULTURE. 



THE WILL. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE NATURE OF THE WILL. 

THE Will is the power of deciding or determining what to 
do, and of putting forth volitions accordingly. The exercise 
of the will is called willing; the act of the will is called a volition. 
Volitions are of two kinds, decisions and executive volitions. The 
Will may thus be defined as the power of putting forth volitions. 
It is the executive power of the mind ; the power in which 
originate our purposes and voluntary actions. 

Two Elements. — This definition of the will makes it consist 
of two distinct elements. It gives the will two distinct functions ; 
one of making a choice or decision, and the other of putting that 
choice or decision into an act. To illustrate, suppose two objects, 
A and B, are before me; I look at them both and decide to take 
A ; this decision to take A is an act of the will. Following this 
decision, I will that my hand shall go forth to take the object I 
have selected ; this also is an act of the will. 

Elements Distiuet. — These two elements or activities of the 
will are entirely distinct. It can choose or decide between two 
objects, and this choice is an act of the will. The act of the 
will may stop here ; the mind may change and the choice or de- 
cision never be put forth into executive volition. Or the mind 
may follow up its decisions and will to do what it decided to do. 
The act of choice may be followed by another act of the will 
which puts the mind or body into action in accordance with the 

puoice or decision. 

(475) 



476 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Will not Distinct from, Mind. — Care must be taken in the 
study of the will, not to think of it as something- distinct from the 
mind. The action of the will is the mind willing ; the power of 
the will is the mind's power to will. My will is my power to 
choose or put forth volitions : my willing is my exercise of this 
power. It is the I, the ego, that thinks, feels, and wills. 

Elements of the Will. — If Ave analyze an act of the will, we 
shall find that it embraces or implies four distinct things. First, 
there must be an object to be accomplished, — a something to be 
done. Second, there must be some reason for the action, — some 
reason why I decide and put forth the volition as I do. This 
reason why is called the motive. Third, there is a choice be- 
tween objects; I select one thing in preference to another. 
This selection is called choice. Fourth, there is the will effort to 
act in accordance with this choice; a volition to carry out my 
choice into action. This is called the executive volition. 

Illustration. — For illustration, suppose I sit at a table and 
reach forth and take up a book. Here the book was the object 
to be taken. There was also some reason why I took the book 
rather than some other object upon the table : I wished to read 
it, or look at its engravings, or remove it from the table. Then 
there was a choice or a selection : I chose this book rather than 
some other book or some other object; or if there was but one 
book, I chose between taking it and letting it remain. Fourth, 
there was the will effort that moved my hand to take up the 
book, or the executive volition. 

The Essential Elements. — Of these four elements or con- 
ditions that enter into an act of the will, the object to be accom- 
plished is independent of the mind, and is therefore not to be 
regarded as an element of the will. The motive, also, though 
subjective, a mental element, is not an element of an act of the 
will ; but it is so intimately related to an act of the will that it 
requires discussion in the treatment of the will. The essential 
elements in an act of the will are the choice and the executive 
volition, as is indicated in the definition. In discussing the will, 



THE NATURE OF THE WILT,. 477 

however, we shall speak of three elements, the motive, the choice, 
and the executive volition. 

I. The Motive. — The motive is the reason why we choose and 
put forth our volitions as we do. It is the mind's incentive to 
action, its reason for its actions — -at least, all its voluntary actions. 
Such a condition or antecedent is always implied in a voluntary 
action; we cannot conceive a mind as acting without some reason 
for its action. The motive may be more or less clearly defined 
in consciousness ; it may be a mere impulse of feeling, or a definite 
judgment of the understanding, or a clear conception of the 
reason, — but some motive there must always be for our choices 
and executive volitions^. 

Used in Two Senses. — The term motive is used in two distinct 
senses. First, any reason which I may have to do or refrain 
from doing anything, is called a motive. Second, the particular 
reason I had for doing anything that I have done, is called the 
motive. According to the first use of the term, I may not act in 
accordance with some of my motives; in the second use of the 
term, the action always represents the motive. A motive is a 
reason for an action ; the motive is the reason for the action. 
Motives are thus both reasons prompting towards an action, and 
reasons for acting as we have acted. In the strictest sense, only 
the latter is called a motive; motives being not merely a reason 
for an action, but the reason why I acted as I did act. 

Motives Subjective. — A motive, it must be remembered, is 
purely subjective ; it is a product of the mind, and belongs to the 
mind and not to something external to, the mind. The orange 
before me is not a motive for action ; it is some liking for it or 
some reason for possessing it that is the motive. This idea is 
of vital importance in comprehending an act of the will and its 
relation to motives. All such definitions of motives as "that 
which incites the mind," " that which inclines the mind," " that 
which influences the mind," "every influence that may bear upon 
the mind as an inducement to action," etc., are not only abso- 
lutely wrong, but fatally misleading in their influence. Putting 



478 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

the motive outside of the mind, they convey the idea that our 
actions are caused by external influences as an apple falls from 
the tree under the influence of gravity. It is from such miscon- 
ception of the nature of motives that the doctrine of the freedom 
of the will has been so obscured and misunderstood. 

Classes of Motives. — All of the motives of the mind have 
been embraced under two general classes ; desires and the sense 
of duty. Both of these classes of motives are the occasion of our 
actions. Sometimes we find ourselves acting from the desire for 
that which is agreeable to us, and again we act in accordance 
with our idea of what is right. It is not improbable, however, 
that there are other motives not immediately included under 
these two heads of desire and duty. Thus the understanding, in 
either judgment or reasoning, may also furnish conclusions and 
opinions that pertain neither to the agreeable nor to our sense of 
right, which may be motives to our actions. 

Relation of Desire and Duty. — Desire and duty being very 
prominent motives, a few words may be said in respect to their 
relation. Sometimes these two classes of motives act in unison; 
frequently, however, there is a conflict between them. When 
they act together, the mind has a very strong motive for its 
actions. In case of conflict, sometimes we decide in favor of one, 
and sometimes in favor of the other. Now we yield to our desire, 
and, regardless of consequences, do that which we know to be 
wrong, and which may bring suffering and wretchedness. Again, 
we follow the sense of duty, even though it may result in ap- 
parent evil, sustained by the approval of a conscience void of, 
offence. 

Motive not a Cause. — A motive is not to be regarded as a 
cause of our actions : it is not the cause, but rather the because of 
actions. The motive is not something that attracts or pulls the 
mind in a certain direction, as gravity pulls a stone towards the 
earth. It is rather the reason why the mind decides to act as it 
does. The mind is its own cause of actions. It is the source of 
its own motives and of its own actions. It is thus the cause of 



THE NATURE OF THE WILL. 479 

its own actions, and it is incorrect to suppose these actions caused 
by anything else. The will is a cause ; action is the effect ; 
motive is the reason why the will causes as it does. This con- 
ception lies at the basis of a correct notion of the will. 

II. The Choice. — Choice is the action of the mind in decid- 
ing or determining what to do. It is the act of selecting one of 
several objects. The power of choice is the capacity of selecting 
among several objects. Choice is the putting forth, or exercise, 
of this power. Thus two or more objects are presented to the 
mind, and I decide which one I shall take. This decision is my 
choice. Or a single object is before me, and I can take it or re- 
ject it ; whichever I do, that is my choice. 

An Essential Element. — Choice is an essential element of an 
act of the will ; it is an element necessarily involved in the con- 
ception of a rational will. A volition, except in our spontaneous 
actions, implies a selection or choyje. When two or more objects 
are before the mind and it takes one of them, it does so in virtue 
of some choice between them. Or, when a single object is to be 
taken or rejected, and we take it or reject it, we do so as a matter 
of choice. In every voluntary action of a rational mind, there is 
implied the element of choice. The voluntary acts of the mind 
are usually preceded by deliberation and choice. 

Choice Equivalent to Decision. — The power of choice is 
equivalent to the power of deciding or determining. The act of 
deciding is an act of choice; decision and choice are one and the 
same thing. To decide is to choose, and to choose is to decide. 
We may thus define the will as the power of choosing and putting 
forth volitions accordingly. Choice is thus to be regarded as an 
act of the will; it is itself a volition. It may be followed by 
another volition or not; but in any case, it is itself to be re- 
garded as a volition. 

Volition Without Choice. — There seem to be some acts of 
the will without a decision or choice. Some acts appear to be 
purely spontaneous ; there is an executive volition without a de- 
cision or determining what is to be done. We sometimes will 



480 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

to do something without making any choice between two or more 
objects or courses of action. In such cases, there is no act of 
choice, but an immediate and spontaneous executive volition. 
The action, however, is a voluntary action; not an involuntary 
one, or else it would not be an act of the will. Many of the acts 
of the intellect and sensibilities are purely spontaneous, without 
any hesitation or choice: we often judge, reason, love, hate, etc., 
without making any choice or decision in respect to these actions. 
Sometimes, also, these actions are purely involuntary, and do not 
involve any act of the will. 

Diversity of Objects. — Choice implies diversity of objects. 
If there were but a single course of action possible, there could 
be no choice in respect to it. We can, however, imagine no case 
in which there is not a diversity of objects; for even if there is 
but a single thing to be taken, we can decide between taking it 
and leaving it alone, — which ,is really a choice between two 
things. The mind cannot be placed among circumstances so 
that there is no diversity in the object of its choice; there is 
always an open alternative in the decisions of the will. Choice 
implies an alternative, and a possible alternative. 

Liberty of Selection. — Choice implies not only a diversity of 
objects, but also the liberty of selection among those objects. 
There can be no choice unless the mind is at liberty to select. 
Anything which would interfere with my liberty of selection 
would interfere with my choice; and to prevent liberty of se 
lection would be to destroy choice. No circumstances, however, 
can deprive me of the liberty of selection. You may command 
me to burn incense on a heathen altar under penalty of death for 
refusal : I can choose to do it and live, or I can refuse to do it 
and die. In both cases, I choose freely and have the liberty of 
selection. If by physical force you carry me to the altar and 
make my hand pile on the wood and apply the torch, the act is 
not mine, but yours; but even in this case I selected freely the 
not-doing of the act. 

Choice Free. — Choice, in its very nature, implies a free 



THE NATURE OF THE WILL. 481 

choice. To say that I chr>se, implies that I chose freely ; choice 
that is not a free choice is not choice. The power to choose im- 
plies that any one of several objects before me could be taken; 
if this were not so, there could be no choice. We are always free 
to choose between two or more circumstances. The circumstances 
may influence our choice, but they do not determine it; Ave de- 
termine freely which of the circumstances we shall select. A free 
choice — and there can be no other — is called an election. The 
will, in its first operation, may thus be defined as the power of 
election. These three terms, — deciding, choosing, and electing, — 
are" all used here in the same sense. 

Deliberation Implied. — Choice implies deliberation, a bal- 
ancing and weighing of reasons, a comparison and estimation of 
the several ends proposed. I perceive several different objects 
to be accomplished, and am conscious of different feelings -and 
judgments in respect to these objects, some tending towards a 
choice in one direction and some in another direction. My 
desires may influence me to one course of conduct, my judgment 
of what is prudent to another, my sense of duty to another. I 
hesitate and deliberate in making up my mind which one of the 
several courses I shall pursue. The process may be very rapid, 
so rapid that I am not conscious of it; or I may hesitate long in 
suspense between conflicting motives. Some deliberation is 
always implied, however, in all of our choices. 

The Final Decision. — Following this deliberation is the de- 
cision in some one direction. We make up our minds what 
course we shall pursue. This is the choice, the determination, 
the final decision. It is the first one of the two dual acts of the 
will. Choice is thus a volition. It may not be carried out into 
the following act, or executive volition. Something may prevent 
my doing what I decide to do ; the opportunity may not occur, 
or I may change my mind in respect to the matter ; but so far 
as I made a choice, that mental act is an act of the will. 

III. Executive Volition.— Having made our choice, the 
next step is the act of the will in the executive volition. We 
21 



482 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

will to do what we have decided to do. If the choice involves a 
physical act, we will to put the body into action to produce it; 
if the choice requires only a mental action, we will to put the 
mind into exercise to carry out our choice. The choice thus be- 
comes imbodied in the act, and the act, as the representative of 
this choice, becomes a fact in the history of the universe. 

Differs from Choice. — The choice and the executive volition 
are both acts of the will : there is an important difference, how- 
ever, between them. The former is not necessarily followed by 
the latter. All choices are not represented in executive volitions. 
Thus, I may decide to-day to go somewhere to-morrow ; but I do 
not put forth the executive volition to go until to-morrow. I 
may change my mind and not put forth the volition to go at all. 
In such a case, the choice was complete, but never went out into 
executive volition. The will acted, but only in its first phase of 
" deciding or determining what to do," but -not in " putting forth 
volitions accordingly." 

Volition When Complete. — The executive volition may be 
complete, even if it is not always followed by the deed designed. 
The thing intended may be impossible ; or other bodies, moving 
in obedience to other wills, may prevent; or disease may palsy 
the frame so that it may not obey the mandate of our wills. 
Still, if we put forth the executive volition, the mental act is 
complete; as a mental act the volition stands as a fact in the 
universe. If the intended action involved a moral element, even 
though the deed was not accomplished, our volition stands to our 
credit or discredit, according as the contemplated act was right 
or wrong. 

IV. Correct Conception of the Wile. — We have thus 
seen that the conditions of an act of the will are, — first, an object 
to be accomplished ; second, the motive for doing or not doing 
the action. We have also seen that an act of the will consists of 
two elements : first, a choice or decision what to do ; second, an 
executive volition to carry out the choice into an actual fact. 
We are now prepared for some general remarks upon the will 



THE NATURE OF THE WILL. 4'83 

which grow out of the foregoing analysis, and which will enable 
the student more fully to understand its nature and its operations. 

Will an Active Power. — The Will is an active power. It is 
not a mere susceptibility to be impressed and influenced; but a 
power for action. It is the source of all the voluntary acts of 
the other faculties. It is the reigning, the dominating power of 
the mind. It sets the other powers into activity and controls 
their action. We will to perceive, to judge, to reason; all the 
faculties act, more or less, under the control of the will. The 
will is the'source of their actions, and also the source of its own 
actions. In other words, I, as a rational being, have the power 
to put my faculties into activity and direct them ; and this power 
is called my will. 

The Will a Cause. — The will is thus the cause of our actions, 
both mental and bodily. The will determines, and the intellect 
proceeds to perceive, or remember, or judge, or reason, in accord- 
ance with the volition. The will decides to move the arm or foot 
and puts forth the volition, and the arm or foot moves in obed- 
ience to the mandate. There may be actions that are involun- 
tary, both mental and physical, but the will is the source of all 
voluntary activity. 

Will a First Cause. — The will is the source of its own 
actions, and thus the cause of its own actions. The cause of a 
volition is not something without the will, but rather the will 
itself. Nothing causes the will to act; it is its own cause. The 
will is thus regarded as a first cause ; or as a cause uncaused. 
This is the only true conception of a rational will. If this is not 
admitted, there is no such thing as a rational will. 

View of Hamilton. — This view has been held, with more or 
less distinctness, by various writers. Hamilton says, "Will is a 
free cause, a cause which is not an effect, a power of absolute 
origination." It is proved so in two ways ; first, directly, by an 
immediate testimony of consciousness to the fact ; second, indi- 
rectly, it is implied in our consciousness at once of an uncompro- 
mising law of duty, and of our being the accountable authors of 
our actions. 



484 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

This Conception Difficult.— The conception of the "will, as a 
cause uncaused, as a first cause, is a difficult one, some say an im- 
possible one. Hamilton, while he holds that we must admit it 
to be correct, says, " The fact of a free volition is indeed posi- 
tively inconceivable." Still, however difficult, it is a necessitated 
conception. The difficulty is no greater than in some other 
beliefs which we regard as certain and necessary truths. Space 
and time, we know, are infinite; we cannot fully grasp their 
infinitude, yet we are compelled to admit it. We are compelled 
to admit some things to be true which we cannot fully compre- 
hend nor explain. So with the will as a first cause ; we know it 
to be a primitive source of action, without being fully able to 
comprehend or explain it. This is the glory of mind, that it 
originates its own motives and actions ; the mind is a spiritual 
centre of thought, feeling, and action. 

The Freedom of the Will. 

I. Nature of Freedom. — Freedom of the will is the power 
of exercising the will without hindrance or restraint. It is the 
power of deciding and putting forth volitions freely. In other 
words, it is the power of choosing freely any one of several pos- 
sible objects, and of putting forth our volitions freely in the 
direction of our choice. 

A Freedom from. — This definition refers to the action of the 
will in making some choice. The will is also free in refraining 
from making any choice. There is thus a freedom from as well 
as a freedom to ; a freedom from making any choice and from 
putting forth any volition, as well as a freedom to make a choice 
and put forth volitions. In this case, we may say there is also 
a choice, — a choice not to choose any one of several objects, 
though there is no executive volition. This alternative of not 
choosing any given object may, in a large sense, be reckoned 
among the objects of choice, and is thus provided for in the defi- 
nition of freedom given. Whedon embraces this idea in his 
definition that freedom of the will is the power or immunity to 
put forth in the same circumstances any one of several volitions. 



THE NATUHK OF THE WILL. -±85 

Another View. — A popular view of freedom is that "the will 
is free when we can will to do just as we please." This view, 
however, is misleading if not erroneous, on account of the am- 
biguous meaning of the "please." In one sense of the word I 
can do what I do not please, that is, I can do what I am not 
pleased in doing. If the term "please" is used as equivalent to 
choose, then the definition of freedom becomes tautological, since 
choosing is an act of the will. To say that the will is free when 
we can will to do just as we choose, is equivalent to saying that 
a choice is free when it is a free choice, or an act of the will is 
free when it is a free act. We sometimes distinguish between 
willing and choosing, regarding willing as related to the executive 
volition : and it is then proper to say the will is free when we 
can choose freely and will as Ave choose. It should be remem- 
bered, however, that choosing is an act of the will. 

Freedom Disputed. — The freedom of the will is a disputed 
question. Some very able thinkers have doubted and even de- 
nied the doctrine of the freedom of the will, and others, while 
they seem to have believed in freedom, have not been very suc- 
cessful in establishing the doctrine. It is one of the cardinal 
principles of the materialistic school of philosophy to deny the 
freedom of the will. Buckle represents the views of this school 
Avhen he says, " Freedom of the will is a myth." 

II. Arguments for Freedom. — There are several distinct 
classes of arguments that may be adduced in favor of the freedom 
of the will. The most of these arguments may be combined 
under four general heads. First, there is a general conviction in 
favor of freedom. Second, we are in a sense conscious of freedom. 
Third, man's moral nature is a presumption in favor of freedom. 
Fourth, the consequences of the opposite doctrine afford a pre- 
sumption in favor of freedom. 

.J. General Conviction. — The first argument in favor of the 
freedom of the will is that there is a general conviction in favor 
of freedom. This general conviction is shown in several ways. 
First, it is affirmed, directly or indirectly, by all men. Second, 



[486 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

I 

it is shown in their opinions and actions. Third, it appears in 
the language and literature of every people. 

Force of such a Conviction. — Such a conviction carries force 
with itself". There are some truths that are fixed in the mind as 
fundamental principles, immutable and unquestionable. The 
conviction of freedom seems to be one of these truths, and men 
would as soon question their personal identity as question their 
freedom. No arguments to the contrary can shake their belief 
in this truth, and none in' favor of it can strengthen it. 

Consciousness of Freedom. — It has been held by some 
writers that the freedom of the will is a fact of consciousness. 
This, however, is liable to be misunderstood. We are not, 
strictly speaking, conscious of the freedom of the will, but rather 
of a belief in its freedom. Consciousness reveals what is now in 
the mind, and not what was in the mind. There is a sense, how- 
ever, in which we may appeal to consciousness for an argument 
in favor of freedom. When I make a choice, I am at that 
moment conscious that the choice is a free choice. I am also 
conscious, at the time of putting forth an executive volition, of 
the power of putting it forth and the power of withholding it. 
In this sense, consciousness presents a strong argument in favor 
of the freedom of the will. 

Man's Moral Nature. — A strong argument in favor of 
freedom of the will is drawn from man's moral nature — from his 
ideas and feelings with respect to moral actions. This argument 
includes several distinct parts which will be briefly stated. 

First, Freedom is indicated by the idea and feeling of obligation. 
We cognize the right and the obligation to do the right; and 
have also a strong feeling of obligation to do that which we be- 
lieve to be right. Now, if we did not assume that we are free to 
do what we think is right, we could have no feeling of obligation 
in respect to it. I do not feel that I am under obligation to do 
what is impossible ; it is only when I can do a thing that I ex- 
perience the feeling that I ought to do it. If I did not believe 
my will to be free, the idea or feeling of obligation could not arise 
in mv mind. 



THE NATURE OF THE WILL. 487 

Second, Freedom is indicated by our approval and disapproval 
of human action. I look at my own actions, and I say I did right 
or I did wrong. Now, if I had no power over these actions, if I 
were a mere machine, such an idea would be impossible. I do 
not approve or disapprove of the action of an inanimate object of 
nature or art. A locomotive runs over a man and kills him; but 
I never feel like blaming the locomotive for the act, because it 
had no freedom in the matter. It could not help doing what it 
did, and is thus in no way accountable for the death of the 
person. What is true of my own actions is also true of the 
actions of others. 1 approve or disapprove because I believe that 
they could have done otherwise than they did. 

Third, Our feelings of satisfaction and remorse indicate the 
freedom of the will. When we have done what we think to be 
right, we have a feeling of secret complacency ; when we have 
done what we believe to be wrong, a feeling of remorse tortures 
the soul. These feelings would not be possible if we believed 
that our actions were beyond our control and that we did not act 
freely. The similar feelings that go out to other persons are 
based on the same belief. We would have no feelings of censure 
or approval for the acts of a person if we did not believe those 
acts were free acts. 

Fourth, Our view of crime and the justice of its punishment in- 
dicates the freedom of the will. There is an instinct of justice in 
the human mind. All men feel and believe that justice demands 
that a criminal shall be punished for his crime. When a man 
has wronged his fellow men, we believe that he should not only 
be placed where he can do no more harm, but that the wrong de- 
mands punishment also. These four considerations are strong 
presumptive evidence in favor of the freedom of the will. 

Consequences of the Opposite. — The consequences resulting 
from the position that the will is not free, are themselves an argu- 
ment in favor of freedom. If we have no power over our 
volitions and actions, we surely cannot be held accountable for 
them. The stone which must fall by the influence of gravity, or 



488 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

the bullet which goes as forced by the powder, are not held re- 
sponsible for their motion, even if they produce injury and death. 
So if man is moved by external causes and has no control of his 
actions, he should not be held responsible for those actions. This 
is the doctrine of fatalism, and many fatalists accept this con- 
clusion. Diderot says, " Examine it narrowly, and you will see 
that the word liberty is a word devoid of meaning ; that there are 
not and cannot be free beings. . . . The motive is always ex- 
terior and foreign, fastened upon us by some cause distinct from 
ourselves . . . But if there is no liberty, there is no action that 
merits either praise or blame ; neither vice nor virtue ; nothing 
that ought either to be rewarded or punished . . . The doer of 
good is lucky, not virtuous . . . Reproach others for nothing, 
.and repent of nothing; this is the first step to wisdom." Remorse 
is regarded as a feeling which arises from the belief that we 
might have chosen and acted differently from what we did, and 
this is called a "fallacious feeling." These legitimate conse- 
quences of the opposite doctrine, so contradictory to human 
thought and feeling, are a very strong proof of the doctrine of 
freedom. 

III. Answer to Objections to Freedom. — There have been 
many objections presented to the freedom of the will, some of 
them difficult to answer, and many of them so plausible as to lead 
to the denial of freedom altogether. Many of these objections, 
however, indicate a misconception of freedom, and some of them, 
when carefully analyzed, will be found to be illogical and absurd. 
We shall endeavor to answer the principal of these objections. 

Influence of the Sensibilities. — It is claimed that the will is 
influenced by the sensibilities, that our actions are determined by 
our inclinations, and are thus not free. In reply to this, it may 
be said that if we choose freely among our several inclinations, 
the choice is a free one. Again, it is not true that our actions 
are always controlled by our inclinations, for we can modify and 
even oppose our inclinations. The will stands back of and can 
direct and control and antagonize any given inclination. We 



THE NATURE OF THE WILL. 489 

can tread our evil inclination under foot, rise above it, and stand 
in our freedom against the strongest desire or passion. The will 
is king of the feelings, and sits among them with the crown of 
freedom upon its brow. 

Power of Contrary Choice. — It is objected that freedom of 
the will assumes the power of contrary choice, and that there is no 
such power. That is, when I put forth a volition I cannot, at 
that moment, all things being as they are, put forth a different 
volition. This, however, is an objection of weight only to the 
superficial thinker. In a certain sense, we have the power of 
contrary choice, that is, when we choose A, we might have chosen 
B, had we so preferred. In the sense, however, in which the 
objectors use it, — the possibility of choosing otherwise than we 
did, all the conditions being unchanged, — no such power is needed 
for the freedom of the will, nor is there any such power. Thus, 
suppose a man had chosen A instead of B ; if he were placed 
again in the same circumstances, with the same mental condi- 
tions, he would inevitably choose A, and not choose B, no matter 
how often the experiment were repeated. The choice of A was 
freely made; and it is impossible for the same mind, 'under the 
same circumstances, with the same reasons, to choose otherwise. 

It must be remembered that man's will is a rational, not a 
blind will. He has a reason for his choices. In all carefully 
considered actions he- chooses freely according to his best reason. 
To choose according to a weaker reason would be absurd. Thus 
the will can be perfectly free without the possibility of a person's 
making a choice different from the one he did make. Suppose a 
conscientious man chooses truth instead of falsehood, it would 
be absurd to say he does not choose truth freely because it is 
morally impossible for him to choose falsehood. Only a super- 
ficial mind, or one entirely misconceiving the action of a rational 
will, could be misled by such an objection. 

Influence of Disposition. — An objection is presented to the 
doctrine of freedom by the question, Can we do what we are not 
disposed to do? If I have no disposition to do a thing, can I do 



490 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

it? If I have a disposition to do one thing, can I do another 
thing? The reply to this objection depends upon its meaning, 
which is not always apparent. If by disposition is meant the 
influence of the feelings, it has already been answered. If it 
means the decision of the judgment, then we say that we can 
choose freely in accordance with our judgment of what is best. If 
we have no judgment as to which choice we should make, then it 
would be irrational to choose, and we expect no such actions of a 
rational will. There is thus a fallacy in the statement and its 
implication. This fallacy is frequently expressed in the question, 
Can I do what I am not inclined to do ? We reply that we are 
not inclined, we have power to incline. The correct conception is 
I incline, not I am inclined. So also in respect to the term dis- 
position; the correct conception is I dispose, not I am disposed. 

The Stronffest Motive. — One of the most plausible objections 
to the freedom of the will is the assertion that the will is deter- 
mined by the strongest motive. The fallacy of this argument can, 
however, be readily seen, and the objection answered. First, the 
will is not determined by the motive ; the will is itself the deter- 
miner, and motive is only the reason for its determinations. The 
mind is the source of its own motives, and thus the source of its 
own actions. The motive is not something external to the mind 
and controlling it; the motive is merely the reason. why I act as 
I do. Second, what is meant by the strongest motive? How do 
we know which is the strongest motive? The mind selects one 
motive or acfs in accordance with one motive; and this is the 
only way we have to determine which is the strongest motive. 
There is no strongest motive per se; the strongest motive is 
merely the selected motive. The question thus is, Does the 
selected motive determine the will in its selection? We answer, 
No; the will is the determiner, and selects freely among the 
motives the one which is its best reason for an action. To say 
that the " motive prevails " is absurd, and shows an ignorance of 
the nature of the will ; it is my mind that prevails. I am the 
source and centre of my own motives and thus of my actios; 



THE NATURE OF THE WILL. 491 

and I willing and acting is what we mean by my will willing and 
acting. 

Motives the Cause. — The conception of the motive as the 
cause of the volition leads to a denial of the freedom of the will. 
If the motive is the cause and the act of the will the effect, then 
the will is caused to act by something exterior to itself, and thus 
does not act with freedom. This is also an incorrect conception 
of the relation of motive to the will. The motive is not a source 
of action, but merely a reason why the will acts as it does. The 
motive is a because but not a cause of our action. There is a 
cause why a stone falls towards the earth ; it is gravity. There 
is a reason why the mind wills and acts as it does: it is the 
motive. The mind is not a passive thing, moved by some cause 
external to itself, like a stone or an apple, and compelled to act 
in a certain way. The will itself is a cause of its own actions; it 
is a self originating power. The will decides and chooses freely 
among the various motives of the mind, and being a rational will, 
is supposed to act in accordance with its best motive or reason 
why. 

Dictum Necessitatis. — The celebrated argument of Dr. 
Edwards against freedom, called the dictum necessitatis, is as 
follows : " If we should thus cause a volition, we should doubtless 
cause it by a causal act. It is impossible that Ave cause anything 
without a causal act. And as it is supposed that we cause it 
freely, the causal act must be a free act, i. e., an act of the will, 
or volition. And as the supposition is, that all our volitions are 
caused by ourselves, the causal act must be caused by another, 
and so on infinitely, which is both impossible and inconceivable." 
That is, if the mind causes a volition, it must first act to cause it, 
and this causative act is a volition, which requires another causative 
act to produce it; and so on ad infinitum. 

Hejilyto This Doctrine. — The fallacy of this objection lies in 
the statement that a causative act needs a previous causative act to 
produce it. The true conception is that the causing of a volition 
is the causal act which produces it. Any given volition is the 



492 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

causal act which gives birth to that volition. When the will 
chooses, that choice is independent of any previous choice; it 
needs no previous choice in order to choose. The error of 
Edwards arose from his not being able to conceive the mind as a 
cause of its actions. This is a necessary conception of a rational 
will. The will is the cause of its own volitions. The will acting 
is the cause of any given volition of the will. The will is itself a 
cause, a first cause, an originator of choices and volitions. 

A Similar Objection. — A similar objection is applied to the 
freedom of choice. Thus, every act of the wi /I presupposes a selected 
motive. A selected motive implies a previous act of selection, which 
was an act of the will. This act of the wi'l presupposes a selected 
motive, which, etc., giving an infinite series. The reply to this 
argument is that the statement is incorrect or misleading. The 
selection of a motive is itself an act of the will ; the selecting of a 
motive is the act of the will which selects it; to select a motive is 
an independent volition depending on no previous act of the will. 
The simple statement is as follows : Objects A, B, and C are 
before me ; motives a, b, and c arise in the mind ; I select a as 
the best reason why. The selected reason ivhy is the reason why I 
selected it. There is no series ; the act of choice is independent 
and initial. No previous selected motive is supposed. 

Conclusion. — The answer to these objections, in connection 
with the direct arguments, will, it is thought, satisfy most minds 
as to the doctrine of the freedom of the will. It should be re- 
membered, in the consideration of the question, that man does not 
always act in accordance with his prerogative of freedom. He 
often gives way to his lower impulses, and becomes a slave to his 
passions and his appetites. But he has the power to resist these 
impulses and to stand in the strength and dignity of his manhood 
with the crown of freedom on his brow. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE CULTURE OF THE WILL. 

n~^HE Will is the source and centre of action. In it man be- 
-L comes a self-originating force in the world. The will em- 
bodies the ideas of the mind and the desires of the heart in living 
deeds. The history of the race is a record of the thoughts and 
purposes of mankind, crystallized into facts by the power of the 
will. This power is therefore of great value to man and demands 
careful culture. 

I. Importance of the Will. — The value of the will as ihe 
executive power of the mind is readily apparent. Without it, 
none of the other powers of the mind would be of much use to 
us, as all voluntary mental activity is due to the will. A strong 
will gives energy to the faculties, and holds them true to the task 
at which they are employed. It thus lies at the basis of all high 
achievements in the intellectual world. Strength of will also 
gives a force to character that makes a person a centre of in- 
fluence in society, and thus contributes to his happiness and 
success. 

Value to Thought.— The will gives power to thought. The 
solution of a difficult problem is due not merely to intellectual 
ability, but to the will that controls the thought. Newton said 
he discovered the law of gravitation by incessantly ftiinking about 
it. The will power involved in writing a work like the Mecanique 
Celeste is almost as wonderful as the intellectual ability. It is 
unremitting mental activity in which the will is the controlling 
influence, that builds up our systems of science and philosophy. 
The triumphs of science are embodiments of a resolute purpose 
as well as of scientific genius. 

( 493 ) 



494: MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Value to Discovery. — The will has been of great value in the 
sphere of discovery and invention. It holds the mind faithful to 
an idea through years of disappointment and failure, until at last 
success crowns the effort. Sustained by an indomitable will, 
Columbus travelled from court to court, bore up under rebuff 
and ridicule, braved the storms and dangers of an unknown 
ocean, stood calm and resolute amid the murmurs and threats of 
a mutinous crew, and at last raised the standard of Spain on the 
soil of a new world. The Goodyear invention is a monument to 
the patience, courage, long-continued experiments, and almost 
fanatical faith of the inventor. Dr. Kane saved his companions 
from Arctic graves by a sublime manifestation of an intelligence 
controlled and impelled by an overmastering will. 

Value to Oratory. — Strength of will is often of great value 
to the orator. The effect of lano;ua2;e is heightened when it is felt 
to be charged with a determined purpose. It is the man behind 
the Avord that gives it power ; and the man is thought and feeling 
embodied in the will. Words that come up out of the heart 
glowing with feeling and are sent forth with a commanding pur- 
pose, make an impression that is felt. The Philippics of Demos- 
thenes were not only eloquent in thought, but also eloquent in 
courage. The firmness and intrepidity of Otis, Adams, and 
Henry gave weight to their arguments and appeals, and stirred 
the hearts of the people to resist British aggression. In Webster's 
memorable reply to Hayne, we have a picture not merely of a 
gigantic intellect, but of leonine firmness and tremendous energy 
of will that was determined to conquer. 

Value to Military Success. — Strength of will is necessary 
for military success. It has been a distinguishing characteristic 
of all the great military leaders. The determination to succeed 
does as much for victory as the skilful strategical combinations. 
The victory, as some one has remarked, often depends on which 
party can stand pounding the longest. It was said of Taylor, 
who sent the reply to a summons to capitulate, " Gen. Taylor 
never surrenders," that he did not know when he was whipped. 



THE CULTURE OF THE WILL. 495 

The military genius of Gen. Grant is expressed in his celebrated 
dispatch, " I shall fight it out on this line if it takes all summer." 
When told that it was impossible to take his army over the Alps, 
Napoleon replied, "Impossible is the adjective of fools," and 
"There shall be no Alps." Wellington's victory at Waterloo 
was largely due to British stubbornness. Caesar and Alexander 
were impersonations of tremendous will power, as well as great 
genius in military strategy. 

Value in Government. — A strong will is essential to those 
who would lead public opinion. There must be leaders in 
society. Mankind rally around some firm and daring spirit who 
has the courage of his convictions and gives them expression in 
word and deed. Every great social movement or political refor- 
mation has a strong will at the centre. The courageous hearts 
of the great barons forced from a tyrannical king the charter of 
freedom. The firmness of Hampden and Cromwell destroyed the 
assumption of the divine right of kings. The gentle firmness of 
Lincoln upheld the fainting heart of the nation, and gave it 
courage during more than one dark hour of our civil war. Men 
gather around a strong will in times of danger and disaster, and 
draw inspiration and confidence from its unflinching self-reliance. 

Value in Religion. — Strength of will shows most conspicu- 
ously in religious belief. Here the will, throned in the principle 
of faith in the infinite, holds a man true to his convictions amid 
persecution and denunciation, and even crowns him with the 
chaplet of martyrdom. Savonarola not only thrilled Italy with 
his eloquence, but made the Piazza della Signoria celebrated by 
his martyr's death for his faith. Luther Avas, in purely intel- 
lectual ability, perhaps inferior to Melanchthon; but his heroic 
will nailed the theses on the church doors of Wittenberg, and led 
him to exclaim, "I will go to Worms though there were as many 
devils on the way as there are tiles on the house-tops." In an 
hour of weakness Cranmer could sign a recantation of his faith, 
but a few months later, with a firmer courage, he could hold the 
hand that had written the recantation in the flames until it was 



490 MENTAL SCIEXCE. 

consumed. Iu every age and in every faith, men have shown a 
sublime courage in suffering and dying for what they believed to 
be the truth. 

Value for Success. — Fidelity to a purpose is an inexorable 
law of all high success in life. Noble thought and elevated feel- 
ing are not sufficient for the accomplishment of life's duties ; a 
man must put his will into his thought and feeling, and let them 
flow out into action. The great deeds of the world were not the 
products of great intellects so much as of strong wills. It is tire- 
less energies and courageous hearts that succeed. Moderate in- 
tellects, strong feelings, and a commanding will, have attained to 
the highest successes of life. To the power of the imperial will 
hardly anything is impossible. It spans rivers, bores mountains, 
fills up valleys, commands senates, crushes armies, humbles proud 
empires, and binds together disunited states into one grand com- 
monwealth. All high success in the active duties of life depends 
.on a courageous heart and a resolute will. 

The Will gives Courage. — This work of the will is largely 
due to its endowing the soul with the attribute of courage. The 
victories of life are won, not by the timid, but by the brave. 
" Faint heart never won fair lady," nor any other of the world's 
choice prizes. Life is a campaign ; we must fight for the triumph 
of the right. Coward hearts faint in the .battle ; the victory be- 
longs only to brave and valiant souls. Courage means victory. 
At the battle of Chickamauga, Gen. Thomas called out to one of 
his officers, "Col. George, how long can you hold this pass?" 
" Until the Second Minnesota is mustered out of the service, sir," 
replied the gallant colonel. They held the pass. All great 
victories in life are 'won by the same determined spirit. Wise 
heads, brave hearts, and strong wills, form a trinity of powers 
which conquer the world. 

Value to Character. — A strong will is essential to personal 
excellence. The will gives strength and dignity to character. 
We admire the man of fixed opinions and inflexible purposes; 
we pity or scorn the man of vacillating mind and wavering in- 



THE CULTURE OF THE WILL. 497 

tention. "The double-minded man is unstable in all his ways;" 
at the mercy of everybody's opinions, he is "like a wave of the 
sea, driven Avith the wind and tossed." A truly noble character 
must be moulded about a firm and steadfast purpose. Firmness 
and courage are so essential to true manhood that even a bold, 
bad man often commands more admiration than a timid, good 
man. The courage of Satan in "Paradise Lost" almost makes 
one forget that he was the devil. For a high and noble character, 
we need not only goodness, but virtue enthroned in a resolute 
will. Such a character is not boisterous and braggart; true 
courage is usually modest in its demeanor, as if conscious of its 
strength. Gentleness, firmness, and moral purpose, united in one 
personality, present a beautiful picture of ideal manhood. At 
the centre of every great character there must be a strong, firm 
self-reliance, that moulds the actions to the thought, and moves 
forward amid opposition and persecution calm and undismayed. 

II. Methods of Cultivating the Will. — These statements 
of the value of the Will give emphasis to the importance of its 
culture, and the teacher's duty in relation to it. This culture is 
more difficult than that of the intellect; though much can be 
done by the intelligent and judicious teacher. The three funda- 
mental principles to guide us in training the will are — Stimu- 
lation, Direction, and Control. 

Stimulation. — The first principle for the culture of the will 
is that of stimulation. The weak will needs to be stimulated to 
activity. The timid, diffident, unreliant lad needs to be taught 
courage and self-reliance. The hesitating, vacillating mind must 
be trained to decide with promptness and to stand true to its 
decisions. Sometimes the defect of will is not so much in real 
weakness of will as in indecision. The dreamy, poetic mind that, 
like Hamlet, has its ideal, but is unable to put forth its energy 
to attain it, should be incited to activity by a sense of duty, and 
be trained to a prompt discharge of the duties of practical life. 
The habit of indecision must be overcome ; it is often better to 
decide unwisely than not to decide at all. 



498 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

Direction. — The strong will should be directed in its activity. 
The old idea that a child's will is to be broken is a pernicious 
doctrine in education. To direct and not to repress is the true 
law of culture. The boy who has a strong will, possesses a power 
that may make him a blessing to the world. To endeavor to 
destroy or break such a will, would be a fatal mistake. What 
we need is to put it into the channels of virtue ; to subordinate it 
to the sense of duty ; and the boy may grow up to be one of 
those heroic souls whom the world honors for their deeds of bene- 
ficence. 

Control. — A third principle in training the will is that of 
self-control. The will should not only flow out with energy in the 
channels of correct activity, but it should also be able to withhold 
its energies at the dictates of judgment. A strong will should 
not only seek to control the outward forces and circumstances of 
nature, but should turn inward and obtain a mastery over itself. 
The greatest victory of the will is the victory over itself. He 
that ruleth his own spirit is better than he that taketh a city. 
The ability to hold the will in complete subjection to its own 
behests, is an invaluable attainment. A calm, quiet self-pos- 
session, a complete equipoise of mind under "the most exciting cir- 
cumstances, — such a power is both useful and admirable, and 
should be one of the ends of the culture of the will. 

A Natural Gift. — Men differ materially in power of will as 
well as in other faculties. There is -a genius of will as there is a 
genius of thought or imagination. No training would make out 
of a man born with a feeble will a heroic soul like Napoleon or 
Luther. This attribute is partly in the mind and partly in the 
body ; there is a physical courage as well as a mental courage. 
"Courage," says Emerson, " is the degree of circulation of blood 
in the arteries;" this, however, is only half a truth. Courage 
and determination lie also in the mind and moral nature, as well 
as in the physical. Strength of will can, however, be cultivated ; 
and it is a culture that will pay largely for the labor. 

Overcoming Obstacles. — The will may be cultivated by the 



THE CULTURE OF THE WILL. 499 

practice of overcoming difficulties. The will grows by what it 
conquers. Every new conquest gives it additional power for 
some other conquest. Children should be led to acquire the 
habit of overcoming difficulties. There is hope for the future of 
a boy who applies himself to a task merely because it is difficult. 
Carey, the eminent missionary, in climbing a tree when a boy, 
slipped and fell to the ground, breaking his leg. Confined to his 
bed for a few weeks, the first thing he did, as soon as he was able 
to walk, was to go and climb the tree. The determined spirit 
which moved the boy to a feat of daring, led him to brave dan- 
gers and hardships for the spread of the gospel of peace. 

By Difficult Studies. — There are several school studies that 
are valuable for the culture of the will. Amoug these, the 
branches of mathematics hold the first rank. These branches re- 
quire close thought and persistent effort; the will must command 
the thought in order to master them. The student that refuses 
assistance from teacher or key in the solution of a hard problem, 
and sits up all night rather than fail in mastering the difficulty, 
is cultivating a force of will that will prove invaluable in after 
life. The study of Latin and Greek is much like mathematics in 
cultivating the power of the will. A strong objection to some of 
the oral instruction in the so-called New Education is that it 
makes knowledge too easy, and fails to cultivate the power of ap- 
plication. One of the most important benefits derived from a 
study is the culture of habits of hard, steady, persistent, and self- 
reliant labor. 

Culture of Self- Reliance. — Special efforts should be made to 
render young persons self-reliant. But little direct assistance 
should be afforded them in their studies; hints may be given and 
the way pointed out, but they should be required to do the labor 
themselves. Games of skill may be used in the same way as 
studies. The competitions of the play-ground are. useful in this 
respect. A game of base-ball or cricket gives valuable training 
to the will ' power. Running, leaping, the gymnasium, etc., all 
furnish excellent opportunities for the culture of the will. Field 



500 ' MENTAL SCIENCE. 

sports, hunting, racing, and the amusements of a ruder life, did 
much more to strengthen the will than the effeminate pastimes 
and employments of modern society. We hail the introduction 
of athletic sports into our schools and colleges as affording not 
only a development of physical hardihood, but also a training to 
resoluteness of purpose. 

Decide Promptly. — It is well to form a habit of deciding 
promptly. The habit of hesitating and vacillating between 
several objects of choice tends to weaken the will. Especially 
should the decision be prompt where there seems to be little 
choice between objects, and where no important consequences 
depend upon the choice. In many circumstances in life, a poorer 
choice promptly made, is better than a wiser one arrived at 
tardily. The general on the field of battle cannot wait to delib- 
erate and weigh consequences. A poor movement well-executed 
will win a victory, while a better one, tardily chosen, would 
result in defeat. 

Pride of Decision. — Much can be done to cultivate the will 
by arousing a pride of firmness. The example of a person with 
a timid and vacillating disposition is so repulsive that it will 
awaken a determination to be determined. A man with a resolute 
purpose and heroic courage commands the admiration of the 
heart, and inspires one with the desire and resolve to emulate this 
virtue. The admiration of the heroic souls of history who, by 
the power of an imperial will, moulded circumstances to their 
purposes and triumphed over all opposition, stimulates the will of 
the young to similar triumphs. 

Power of Other Wills. — The will may be stimulated to 
action by the power of other wills operating upon it. The energy 
of one mind may, as it were, be infused into other minds. It is 
said of an officer in the Revolutionary army that when lying 
helpless from rheumatism he was ordered by Washington to per- 
form some duty. On his replying that he was unable to go, he 
received a message from Washington, saying, " Sir, you must go." 
Inspired by the will of his general, he mounted his horse and 



THE CULTURE OF THE WILL. 501 

executed the order. Csesar made heroes of his soldiers by his 
own heroic example. Crossing the sea in a storm, he quelled the 
fears of the seamen and inspired them with courage by the words, 
"Why do you fear? You carry Csesar." The iron will of 
Cromwell could transform simple English yeomen into the invin- 
cible soldiers of his famous " Ironsides." Joan of Arc seemed to 
put her own heroic soul into the bosoms of the coward soldiers 
of Charles, as she led them on to glorious victory. 

By Moral Influences. — The firmest basis of a strong will 
is the sense of duty. A will enthroned in conscience is almost 
invulnerable. It is this that holds a man true to his convictions 
amid the sufferings of the rack and the flames of martyrdom. 
Conscience, though it may "make cowards of us all," can also 
make heroes of us all. Faithful to a sense of duty, the most 
timid and shrinking soul rises to an altitude of heroic firmness 
that awakens emotions of sublimity. Margaret Wilson, the 
young Scotch Covenanter, chained to a stake in the way of the 
rising tide, remained true to her faith and sang praises to God 
until her voice was drowned in death by the advancing waves. 

Conclusion. — In conclusion I desire to enjoin upon teachers 
and parents the duty of training the will. Remember that the 
culture of the intellect is not sufficient to meet the demands of 
education ; the power which directs the intellect and gives it 
efficiency must also be cultivated. We need spiritual energy as 
well as mental acuteness; and the culture of the will affords 
this energy. Character is worth more than high intellectual 
attainments; and the will is one of the most important elements 
of character. Let us as teachers endeavor to develop wise heads, 
pure hearts, and strong wills, and our pupils will accomplish that 
which dignifies manhood and gives glory to humanity. 



502 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

HIGHER SPIRITUAL CULTURE. 

"We have led the student from the beginning of mental activity 
in the senses up through the sphere of abstract principles, and 
found a source of supernatural and absolute truth in .he Reason. 
The Reason reaches down toward the finite, and reads the ideas 
that it symbols ; it reaches out in time and space, and apprehends 
the infinite ; it reaches up towards a great first cause, and appre- 
hends the necessity of an absolute beginning. It gives rise to the 
idea of the Good, and thus lays the foundation of man's moral 
nature. Lifting this idea up into the sphere of the infinite, it 
attains to the idea of God, and thus reaches the Religious Nature. 

Higher spiritual culture demands the education of the religious 
nature. The religious nature, as we have shown, is the highest 
form of the Ethical; it is the Ethical acting in relation to the 
Supreme Being. It implies the consecration of all our powers to 
God, and requires their fullest and highest activity. The highest 
operation of the intellect is Faith ; the highest operation of the 
sensibilities is Love ; the highest operation of the will is Obed- 
ience. The elements of religion, therefore, are Faith, Love, and 
Obedience; Faith in God and salvation; Love to God and man; 
Obedience, the complete subordination of the human will to the 
Divine. Here we reach the crowning excellence of man's being, 
the keystone of the spiritual arch. 

Spiritual culture educates the principle of faith. To develop 
the spirit of inquiry is right, but there is a place where inquiry 
must stop. In this respect the child and the philosopher stand 
upon the same level. We may assign cause after cause to account 
for phenomena, but at last we must end at the uncaused. " Who 
made things?" said a little girl of three years. "God," said her 
mother; "He made all things!" This answered for a year, but 
at four the question came, " Who made God?" "No one," said 
the mother; "He always was." Reflecting a moment, the little 
skeptic exclaimed, " Why-, mamma, didn't somebody just make 
his hands, and then he make the rest of hisself ? " Philosophers, 
like the child, often doubt first causes, and are constantly looking 
for some one to " make the hands." 



HIGHER SPIRITUAL CULTURE. 503 

The teacher should labor to cultivate the faith of his pupils. 
The trust of childhood should be developed into the faith of the 
philosopher. Pupils should be led to see that all science begins 
and ends in faith ; that the "chain of every logical induction or 
deduction hangs upon an a priori truth ; that beyond the known 
stretches a great unknown ; and that the loftiest attainments of 
the intellect are but a mountain peak, from which, with the eye of 
reason, we may catch glimpses of the land of glory beyond. 

The love element of religion should be developed early in the 
heart of a child. Love is the golden cord that binds the soul 
to duty and honor. The mother's love-kiss on the brow, the caress 
of a sister, the kind look of a father, take deeper hold upon the 
heart than their precepts and admonitions. Love is the sunlight 
in which the spirit grows. We plant. 'a seed in the cold, dark 
earth, and the sunlight comes and puts its golden arms around it, 
and lifts it into bloom and beauty. So the soul is lifted up into 
a purer and better life by the sunlight of love. 

Love is the very essence of religion. We obey God because 
we love him. The planets revolve around their central sun, held 
in their orbits by the elastic thread of gravity. Christ is the 
central sun of the Christian world, and we ..revolve about him, 
held in the orbit of duty by the influences of his infinite love. 
Let us kindle the flame of love, therefore, upon the heart- altars 
of youth, that it may burn with vestal constancy in manhood 
and age. Let it light up the home-circle, making home, as it 
should be, the dearest spot on earth. Let it flow out into friend- 
ship, linking souls together with the constancy of David and 
Jonathan. Let it spread until it embraces one's native land, 
filling the heart with a patriotism that makes us, like Warren, 
feel that it is sweet to die for one's country. Let it widen still 
farther until it covers the whole earth ; and goes out in acts of 
philanthropy, such as have given immortality to Howard and 
'Florence Nightingale. And then, leaving earth, let us lead it 
upward to meet and blend with the infinite love that flows from 
the heart of the Great Father. 

We need, also, to cultivate the principle of obedience, the sub- 



504 MENTAL SCIENCE. 

ordination to authority. Obedience to others gives the power of 
self-control. No one is able to command who has not himself 
learned to obey. The best commanding generals were the most 
obedient subalterns. The habit of obedience to superiors leads 
unconsciously to obedience to the dictates of conscience. 

This injunction is especially important to us as teachers of 
youth. We are neglecting the principle of subordination to duty 
in American education. Boys are allowed to do too much as they 
choose, and thus learn to disregard parental authority. No boy 
who has been taught obedience to parents speaks of his father as 
the "governor," or of his mother as the "old woman." The worst 
boys at school come from homes where there is no submission to 
parental authority. The result of such neglect is a disregard of 
social customs and restraints, and, too often, a violation of legal 
statutes. Let teachers and parents, therefore, train the will to 
submit to rightful authority, that the rising generation may be- 
come good citizens and Christian men and women. 

The culture of these three elements— Faith, Love, and Obedience 
— in their relation to God, is religious culture. Faith in God, 
love to God, and obedience to God, is religion. The relation is 
simple and logical. Faith leads to love; we must believe before 
we can love. Love leads to obedience; that obedience is the most 
willing and perfect which flows from affection. Faith, then, is 
the foundation upon which Love, the wise master-builder, rears 
the temple of Obedience. Or, Faith is the soil in which grows 
the tree of Love, and Obedience the ripened fruit. Let us plant 
the tree of Love in the soil of Faith in God, and it will reward 
us with the golden fruit of perfect Obedience. 

Such a culture will not only secure the approval of the wisest 
and best among mankind, but I believe that in the day when 
the Great Master makes his awards, the brightest wreath will be 
placed upon the brow of him who has done the most for the spir- 
itual culture of the race. 



